


Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin

by Siriusfan13



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: AU, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dark Humor, F/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Marauders sorted into different houses, Written Pre-Order of the Phoenix
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 78,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24993271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriusfan13/pseuds/Siriusfan13
Summary: AU. Story of Sirius Black. A dark boy from a dark family, but what if his family was a little darker than we thought? What if he were Voldemort's son? This is basically a Marauders era fic mostly written pre-Order of the Phoenix (with some edits to acknowledge the later books).  It's Sirius-centric, but just gives what was a possible, albeit unlikely take back when we only had four books to work with.  Please give it a shot, and review, so I know how to improve as I move forward with this story.  Thanks! :D
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Hello. First a quick disclaimer. As I'm sure you know, I'm not J.K. Rowling. Therefore, I do not own anything pertaining to Harry Potter and his universe. I also do not own the quotes that I like to slip into the chapters. I do note who said these quotes, though

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**_Prologue_ **

_"O, what a tangled web we weave,  
When first we practice to deceive!"_

_—Sir Walter Scott_

Drip… Drip... Drip…

Pale eyes watched as each drop of water splashed into the tiny puddle near the wall.

Drip... Drip... Drip...

It was a steady sound. Rain or shine outside, the inside of this cell was so damp, the steady drip of water could always be heard.

Drip… Drip… Drip…

It was such a steady sound, it could drive a person insane if he were to listen for too long. But in this place that hardly mattered. The steady drip of water was better to focus on than the screams and wails that echoed from the other cells.

Drip… Drip... Drip…

Or the rats. It was better focus on the water than the rats that occasionally skittered across the floor. The pale eyes coldly watched one slip through the bars. He hated rats. His gaze lingered for a moment at the spot where it had disappeared before he shifted his focus back to the water.

Drip… Drip… Drip…

It was almost hypnotic if you watched long enough. It was almost enough to put you into a trance. That was, of course, the point. After twelve long years of fighting insanity in a place where it often struck after only a few days, the owner of those pale eyes had decided he'd had enough.

It had taken years of practice, years of training his mind, but he'd finally learned how to completely lock up his thoughts, so he could rest in black oblivion.

There were three ways in which he could bring himself rest, but neither death nor the dementor's kiss had ever appealed to him as much as systematically locking up his mind.

The most notorious prisoner of Azkaban, credited with the deaths of thirteen people, betrayal of his closest friends, the title of heir apparent to Voldemort, the most evil and dangerous dark wizard in one hundred years, was also the only prisoner to stay in that hellhole for over a year and remain sane. He largely credited that to the fact that he was innocent of all charges leveled against him.

And now that very prisoner, Sirius Black, leaned back against the cold stone of the wall and enjoyed the final stages of his mental shut-down—reliving memories, both good and bad, as they were quietly locked in the recesses of his mind.

The dementors were active today, often drifting away from his cell for a few minutes at a time—an added bonus. Something was agitating them. Perhaps a few good memories would slip in, then, before he blacked out.

Drip . . . Drip . . .

The sound was fading as he became lost in his thoughts . . . and his past.

* * *

_One last note... don't worry... the chapters get longer!_


	2. Death and Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: See, I promised you a longer chapter. I hope you liked it. Now you should have a fair taste of what you're getting into. Warped? Yes. And this is why some of my friends refuse to read this one. Anyway, thank you so much for reading! Please review! I actually do read the reviews!

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 1—Death and Life**

Sirius Black actually wasn't his given name. The surname "Black" would come later, when he tried to piece his broken life back together. He was only eleven when that had happened. His early childhood memories weren't exactly pleasant. They also weren't very clear to him for a variety of reasons. The clearest memory from before he'd turned eleven being the night his mother died.

Sirius' mother had been the first of Voldemort's Knights of Walpurgis, even before Voldemort had completely shaken off his real name, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Back when the "knights" had only been a little known political faction in the Ministry of Magic. Back before some of the extremists, like his mother, had broken off and formed a secret organization known only to themselves as the Death Eaters. Because he was raised in this background, Sirius was trained in much illegal magic, including the dark arts, while still young.

The night his mum died, a group of Death Eaters had been over. Sirius, disgusted with their talk, had slipped out of the group and instead watched from the stairs. He'd almost drifted off to sleep sitting there when the argument had started. The room went silent except for his mother's shouting. By the time Sirius opened his eyes, it was done. There was a flash of green light and his mother lay crumpled on the floor at Voldemort's feet. She wasn't breathing.

The rest of the Death Eaters silently left, casting fearful looks behind them, but saying nothing. Voldemort looked up at Sirius with his cold, hateful eyes. He'd known all along that the boy would see, and he'd killed her anyway. Sirius remained still as a statue, afraid to move. He'd known that this would happen one day. He was only nine, but he'd expected it. And he knew what would happen next.

A chilling smile crept over Voldemort's snakelike face. "Come here, child," he whispered.

And young Sirius Riddle came to his father, not because he wanted to, but because he was afraid not to. The tall, pale boy walked to Voldemort, masking all emotion on his face. The only part he couldn't mask were his eyes. Anger burned there like blue fire. Anger, hatred and . . . fear. Sirius stopped walking when he reached his mother's body.

Voldemort's eyes were devoid of all emotion. "Sirius," he said softly. "As you can see, I've lost one of my number." He casually motioned with his wand toward her lifeless body. "So, it's time for you to take your place, as you rightfully should, by my side."

Sirius, whose eyes had for a moment been locked onto his mother's body, suddenly shot up to Voldemort's face. "Me . . .? Join . . . you?" he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, boy. What do you think you've been trained you for? Apparation, curses, advanced potions . . . Do you think other boys your age are capable of such things? You were trained for this purpose. It is your destiny."

Sirius shook his head. "No . . . No! Never!" He backed up a step or two.

Voldemort fingered his wand. "No? Sirius, it wasn't a request. You join me or you die. It's very simple."

Sirius froze. Suddenly he wished he hadn't left his wand in his room. Not that it would have helped, but he could have at least died fighting. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Then I die." His voice was surprisingly clear and steady.

"So be it," hissed Voldemort, raising his wand. " _Avada Kedavra_!"

Sirius felt the spell hit him on the chest, followed by a crushing pain. He dropped to his knees, clutching near his heart. He hadn't expected the pain. He'd always thought that the curse killed too quickly for that. Then another thought struck him. He wasn't dead.

He looked up to see Voldemort's wand in a defensive position, as though he'd just had to block a spell. There was a look of surprise on his face that soon changed to fury. "Patrono Sangre," he snarled. "Of course. I'd forgotten." He grabbed the boy by the collar of his robes and dragged him to his feet. "I should feed you to the werewolves for that, or better yet . . . to the dementors!"

Sirius gaped, eyes wide and frightened. His chest still hurt, and he still didn't know what had happened. What was "Patrono Sangre," and how the hell was he still alive?

"Afraid?" Voldemort whispered, throwing him back on the floor. "You should be. I should let the dementors administer the kiss, but I have a better idea." He raised his wand.

Sirius knew he should try to run, but the last attack had drained him of his strength, so he just lay there beside his mum, doubled over in pain, willing the tears not to come. He wouldn't give his father the satisfaction of seeing him die crying. But it wasn't another death curse.

" _Imperio_!" Voldemort shouted.

Sirius braced himself, hoping that this spell would go wrong as the last one had.

It didn't. As soon as the spell touched him, Sirius felt a pleasant fog fill his mind. The pain in his chest seemed to fade, as did everything else around him. His mind completely blacked out as it relinquished control of the body to Voldemort.

Sirius had no strong memories to look back on for two years. The Imperius curse had taken care of that. Every once in a while there would be a flash of . . . something—a lucid moment perhaps. But most of it was a dark void while the boy's body was controlled by Voldemort. It was this void that tortured him even twenty years later. Because of what Voldemort made him do for those years. Sirius may have done the work of a Death Eater. He may have tortured muggles . . . or even _killed_ someone, and he would never know. That laid the foundation for the hell his mind would later become in Azkaban.

Sirius never knew exactly how he freed himself. But it seemed that around his eleventh birthday, the fog that had been clouding his mind for so long began to slowly lift. The first thing that struck him was the pain in his chest over his heart. It hurt him constantly, but pain seemed to help clear his mind, so he endured it. Because of this, it wasn't long before his thoughts were completely his own again, even though it would still be months before he began to regain control of his body. When he finally had enough control over himself to look, he found that the source of the pain in his chest seemed to be a thin, lighting bolt shaped scar that the failed Avada Kedavra curse had left. It still hurt a great deal, and would worsen when Voldemort was nearby, which, unfortunately for him, was often.

Sirius kept playing the role of the mindless follower while he tried to plan his escape. Not that he had an actual plan. He had nowhere to go, anyway. It wasn't exactly that he'd _lost_ hope. He'd never had any to begin with. He'd never in his life had _reason_ to hope . . . until the letter came.

The first one came alone. Thick parchment with emerald green writing on it. At first Sirius didn't realize that the letters were for him. Voldemort instantly destroyed that first one after reading it, as well as those that followed.

Then one day, Voldemort missed one. But Sirius saw it. As soon as Voldemort had left the room after burning at least twenty letters, Sirius' curiosity got the better of him and he pulled the stiff envelope out from where it was stuck under the door. He read the address and almost dropped it.

It read in ornate green lettering:

_Mr. S. Riddle_

_Smallest Bedroom_

_13 Ebony Lane_

_Swanley_

_Kent_

He turned the letter over. It had the Hogwarts crest on it—his father's old school. But that was impossible. Voldemort had told no one that he had a son except for his Death Eaters. No one else knew that Sirius even existed. They couldn't have written a letter to him.

Yet there it was.

"Sirius!" His father's high voice rang out through the house. Sirius quickly stuffed the letter in his robes and went to Voldemort, carefully keeping his expression blank. He would have to read it later.

He didn't get a chance to read the letter until he went to bed that night. After waiting until he felt it was safe, he quietly crept to his window and opened the envelope. He read the letter in the moonlight. It was an acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, written and signed by the man who claimed to be the new headmaster of the school, Professor Albus Dumbledore.

As soon as he read that name, Sirius understood why his father had destroyed the other letters. Voldemort had nothing but hatred for Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore had been Riddle's transfiguration teacher, and apparently the professor had never trusted him.

Sirius smiled faintly, thinking, "The new headmaster and I would probably get along. I don't trust my father either . . . Wish I could go there." He sighed, tossing the letter on the floor. "Right," he muttered. "Who am I kidding? The only way I'll ever leave here is dead. Voldemort will see to that. And even if I did escape . . . I have no money . . ."

He stared at the letter on the floor a moment longer before picking it up and stuffing it back into the envelope. "Might as well keep it," he thought. "If by some miracle I _do_ get out of here, at least I'll have somewhere to escape _to_." As he was looking around his room, trying to find a place to hide the letter where his father wouldn't find it, he heard people talking downstairs.

Sirius went pale. The only people who would be there this late at night were Death Eaters. Which meant Voldemort could call him at any moment. Sirius scrambled over to his old bedside table. It had been his mum's . . . before she'd died. Voldemort probably wouldn't bother checking its one drawer. Then he stopped. Their house elf might peek in there, though. He'd been more Medea's house elf than anything, and he was a nosy bugger. Sirius hesitated a moment, unsure, but the sound of more voices arriving downstairs made up his mind for him. He couldn't be caught with that letter. He yanked the drawer so hard it almost fell out. Carefully replacing it, he noticed that the bottom seemed broken.

"Great," Sirius muttered, poking at it, trying to fix it. He only managed to make it worse. That's when he realized it was a false bottom. Interested, Sirius pried the false bottom out, all the while keeping an ear open for footsteps. He set it on the floor and looked in the drawer. There was nothing in there but a small key with a tag attached. He picked it up and read: _Medea Sansfoy: Vault # 711_. Sirius' mother. And the key had _Gringotts_ engraved on it. Sirius was puzzled. He knew his mother's family was extremely wealthy, but he also knew that his grandfather had refused her any money if she married Tom Riddle. Her father had already picked her a pure-blood husband. Sirius had heard her say it a thousand times when his parents would argue. She had no money.

But she had a vault . . . ?

A slow smile spread across Sirius' face. She must not have completely trusted her own husband. She must have had some money after all. A brief sense of hope filled him. So if he could find a way to get out alive, maybe he _could_ escape to Hogwarts after all.

His mind had only touched on the idea when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Quickly, Sirius dropped the false bottom back in place, this time lining it up correctly, and shut the drawer. Too late, he realized that he'd forgotten to hide the letter, but he didn't have time now. He tossed the key and the letter into the pocket of his robes that were draped across a chair. As an afterthought, he tossed his wand in there as well before jumping into bed and feigning sleep.

Only moments later, his door opened and a voice muttered, "Kreacher's sent to get the puppet. If mistress were here, Kreacher wouldn't have to talk to him." It was their house elf. Sirius had never liked him. Kreacher was too immersed in the dark arts. "Master wants you downstairs. Hurry," Kreacher snapped, louder this time. Voldemort apparently wasn't wasting his own time on the boy anymore if he was sending the house elf for him.

Sirius reacted mechanically, as he always did, pretending the Imperius curse still held him in Voldemort's power. He stood, grabbed the robes from his chair, and got dressed as the house elf waited outside the room. He then followed Kreacher downstairs.

When Sirius entered the room, ten masked faces turned to look at him. Casually Voldemort shifted his gaze in Sirius' direction as well. Sirius had an eerie feeling that they'd been talking about him. Voldemort waved a hand vaguely in Kreacher's direction, dismissing him. His duty done, the small, misshapen house elf wandered away to dust Sirius' mother's portrait.

"Sirius," came Voldemort's cold, high voice. "Come."

Sirius approached him and bowed as he always did. As usual, the submissive action made him nauseous. "What is your wish, my lord?" Sirius asked.

Voldemort neared Sirius, who tried not to let the pain he felt in his chest show on his face. Voldemort laughed. "That's what I like. Obedience. I have a special job for you."

"What is it, my lord?"

"There is a family of mudbloods who live in Surrey. One is in the Ministry of Magic and is becoming suspicious of the high rate of muggle murders in the past few years. He could become a thorn in my side. He is at the Ministry as we speak, but his family remains at home. Kill them as an example of what happens to those who involve themselves in things they do not understand." Voldemort turned away, motioning to one of his number. The Death Eater placed a paper with the mudblood family's address on it into Sirius' hand.

Sirius didn't move a muscle. It was all he could do to refrain from telling Voldemort to go to hell. But Sirius managed to control himself. It wouldn't do to get himself killed. Not now when he was just working out a plan for freedom. And maybe he could save these mudbloods while he was at it and redeem himself . . . if only a little.

Voldemort looked back at Sirius. "You may go," he said with a trace of irritation in his voice. "Return here when you've finished."

"Of course, my lord." Sirius bowed again, pulled on a death eater's mask, and left. The hot late July air blasted him as soon as he stepped outside. The heat would have been oppressive for anyone else. For Sirius, it was liberating. Far less oppressive than the room he'd just left.

He stepped under a street light and read the address of the mudbloods. Then he pulled his wand out of his pocket and prepared to apparate to the house. As usual, he hoped to God he wouldn't splinch himself. He hadn't yet, but there was always a first time, and he was very underage. Sirius sighed.

He closed his eyes and began the spell. Moments later he was gone.

The house he apparated into was a comfortable little two-story. Sirius looked around. The lights were off, but even in the dark he could tell that this wasn't an ordinary wizard's house. "Must be muggle," he murmured. He looked around for their clock, knowing he'd only have a short time to do this. When he found it, he had to wonder why he'd bothered. It was weird. Only two hands. How was he supposed to read that?

"Better just get this over with," he muttered, holding up his wand. "Lumos!" A small light glowed at his wand tip, brightening the room a bit. He began to search the house.

A shriek from behind him caused Sirius to spin around. There stood an unarmed woman in her night robes. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice shaking. "What are you doing in my house?"

"Nox," Sirius whispered, and the wand went out, leaving them only faintly illuminated by the moonlight pouring in the window. He quickly put the wand in his pocket. "I—I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to get you out!" He raised his now empty hands where she could see them.

The woman relaxed a tiny bit. "Do you . . . know my husband then?"

Sirius shook his head. "No. Listen, I don't have much time. You've heard about the rise in muggle murders? The one who has been involved is the one who sent me here. I was sent to keep your husband quiet."

Too late, Sirius realized that this wasn't the best way to explain the situation. Eleven years of near isolation hadn't given him much tact.

Terror washed over the woman's face. Before she could scream again, he continued, trying to fix the situation. "His name is Voldemort. I don't approve of his methods, so I'm giving you a chance to get out of here before the house is destroyed."

"Wha—what?" she asked faintly.

"I'm giving you and your family a chance to get out," he said urgently. "If you trust me, I'll just destroy the house. If you don't, then Voldemort will send another, and I guarantee that the next will kill everyone . . . including me."

The woman was frightened. That much was obvious. She also wasn't moving.

Sirius let out a cry of disgust. "Are you listening? If you stay, you'll die! Is there anyone else in the house?"

"My-my son . . ."

"Good. Get him. Do you have any floo powder?"

She nodded.

"Then I would suggest taking the floo system to the Ministry. Tell your husband what I have said."

The woman still didn't move.

"Go!" Sirius barked, grateful for his size. He was tall for an eleven-year-old—Big enough to scare this woman.

She finally ran up the stairs. Moments later she was back, carrying her sleepy-eyed son. She grabbed a handful of floo power from a pouch on the mantle. Then she stepped into the fireplace. Casting a look at Sirius, she asked, "What are you going to do?"

He scowled. "Destroy the house and leave. Hopefully it will throw them off long enough."

She didn't get a chance to ask, "Long enough for what?" before he snapped at her again to go. "Tell the Ministry I died in the house. Now, get out before we _all_ die!"

She nodded, throwing the floo powder down, and saying, "Ministry of Magic." In a puff of smoke and flames she was gone.

Sirius lost no time. He tore off his mask and tossed it on the floor. Then he pulled out his wand and pointed it at the sofa. " _Incendio_." It went up in flames. After setting a few more fires in the room, Sirius hurried to the fireplace. He grabbed the entire pouch of floo powder, took out a handful and put the pouch in his pocket with his letter and key. He was about to pocket the wand as well, when a better idea struck him.

Throwing the wand his father had bought him into the flaming room, Sirius backed into the fireplace. He threw down the handful of floo powder, shouting, "Hogsmeade!"

And he was gone.


	3. Sanctuary

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 2-Sanctuary**

The fireplace he tumbled out of was filthy. He stood up slowly, coughing and covered with soot. "Well, that was graceful," he muttered. Not that he should have complained. It was only the second time he had ever used floo powder. He was used to apparating.

He was also used to having a wand. He felt defenseless now without it. He could only hope that Voldemort would fall for his ploy and wouldn't come looking for him.

"What happened to you? Come out of the wrong fireplace?" asked a voice behind him.

Sirius spun around, frightened.

It was only an attractive young woman, looking at him curiously. When he didn't answer, she raised an eyebrow and repeated her question.

"I—I think so," he replied.

"Where were you going?" she asked, kindly.

"Where am I?"

"First tell me where you were going this late."

"Hogwarts. I have a friend there," he lied. "He's come to school early. I wanted to surprise him . . ."

The woman chuckled. "Well, no wonder you wound up in the wrong place. Don't you know you can't get to Hogwarts that way? It's protected."

"Oh," Sirius replied. What else was there to say? "So, where am I?" he tried again.

"The Three Broomsticks, an inn in Hogsmeade. My name's Rosemerta. Who are you?"

"Ah—Sirius," he said softly.

She smiled. "Sirius, eh? That's an odd name." When he didn't respond, she continued speaking. "Well, Sirius, your best bet to visit your friend would be to owl them at Hogwarts, let them know you're coming, then just walk over. It's not far. I could lend you an owl if you'd like."

He nodded, unsure how to answer. He wasn't used to people treating him this kindly.

Rosemerta smiled. "It's settled then. You can stay in one of the empty rooms. If you owl your friend tonight, you should be able to visit tomorrow."

He looked at her uncomfortably. "I don't have any money with me. I can't pay for the room."

Rosemerta just laughed. "Don't worry about it. It's on the house. Not your fault no one told you that you can't floo to Hogwarts. Come on. I'll set you up in a room."

An hour later, Sirius sat on the bed of a cozy little room, rereading the letter in his hand for the twentieth time. Rosemerta's small brown barn owl watched him curiously. He smiled sadly at the owl. "They're never going to accept me, you know. Once I tell Dumbledore who my father is and what he's been doing, he'll never allow me to stay there." The owl hooted softly in reply.

Sirius ran his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes. He was tired. It had been a long night. And tomorrow promised to be an even longer day.

He glanced around the room uncomfortably, unused to the sudden freedom. He kept expecting Voldemort to pop out from some dark corner and try to kill him. So far there had been no sign of either his father or the Death Eaters. Sirius took that as a good sign. They had to have noticed his absence by now, and if they hadn't tracked him yet, it was likely that they believed him to be dead. That was a small blessing . . . for now.

He looked over his letter one more time.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_I don't know how you got my name, but I am writing to inform you that I would very much like to attend classes at Hogwarts. However, I have issues in my life that may affect my eligibility. Please respond soon, as we need to speak. I am currently in Hogsmeade at the Three Broomsticks._

_Sirius Riddle_

"Here goes nothing," he murmured, sealing the letter and handing it over to the owl. "Hurry."

The owl hooted and took the letter in his beak. He flapped his wings and was soon out the window. A few moments later, he had disappeared into the black night.

Something was poking at his hand. Sirius tried to roll over and block it out, but whatever it was, it was insistent. The poking became harder. "Ouch," he snapped, his eyes opening angrily as he sat up, rubbing his sore hand. Sirius looked around, disoriented for a moment. This wasn't his room. Where was he?

Then the events of the previous night came back to him full force. "I'm still alive," he whispered. He really hadn't expected to survive the night.

He felt another sharp poke, this time to his arm. "What do you _want_?" Sirius snapped, looking down. It was Rosemerta's owl, and in front of it laid a heavy parchment envelope bearing the Hogwarts crest.

Wide-awake now, he sat up so suddenly in his haste to grab the letter, he nearly knocked the owl from the bed. Finally realizing that it wasn't getting any food, the owl flew out of the room in a huff. Sirius didn't notice. He was too busy staring at the envelope in his hands. He was half-afraid to open it. What if Dumbledore had decided to reject him without having even heard Sirius' story?

"Coward," he finally growled at himself, and he tore the envelope open. This letter was written in the same ornate, green handwriting as the last had been.

_Mr. Riddle,_

_I would be more than happy to meet with you before the beginning of the term. As this is summer break still, I have no pressing engagements. You are welcome to see me today if you like. I will be sure to tell our groundskeeper to open the gates when you arrive. I look forward to meeting you._

_Prof. Albus Dumbledore_

_Headmaster,_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Sirius read the letter twice to be sure he hadn't mistaken. Then he flew into action. Never had he made himself presentable so quickly, even when summoned by his father. In no time he was downstairs, letter in hand.

Rosemerta was already up and about. She smiled at him. "Well, you're up early. Wouldn't you like a bite to eat?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, I need to go."

She caught sight of the letter in his hand. "Ah, so your friend has written you. Well then, it was good meeting you. If you take the main road outside this door left, straight out of town for a couple of miles, you'll find your way to Hogwarts."

Sirius nodded and walked toward the door. Halfway there, he stopped and looked at Rosemerta who was busily sending the broom off to sweep. "Um—thanks," he said softly. It was the first time he'd ever thanked anyone for anything. It was a strange feeling.

Rosemerta just laughed, gave him a cauldron cake to eat on the walk, and sent him on his way.

"Great," Sirius sighed. "Lost again." He stood at an intersection between four corridors, uncertain of which direction to take. He shrugged and went left, hoping to stumble upon Dumbledore's office by luck. He looked around as he walked, trying to take everything in. For all he knew, this may be his only chance to do so if Dumbledore rejected him.

Hogwarts was not at all what Sirius had expected. That wasn't exactly a bad thing, just different. The old castle felt like a mix of enchanting beauty and bizarre oddities. There was that giant groundskeeper with the pink umbrella, for instance. And that irritating poltergeist who had gotten him lost in the first place.

He turned the corner, only to come face to face with a very large portrait of a fat woman in a pink dress. "Oh, no," he moaned. He'd been down here before. The fat lady sent him a curious look, but before she could say anything, the frame swung open toward Sirius, nearly knocking him over. He backed out of the way just in time. Looking back at the picture, he was surprised to see a rather severe-looking woman standing in a passageway that had been hidden by the painting. The woman wore long green robes and had her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun. Judging by the look on her face, she was as surprised to see Sirius as he was to see her.

"Who—who _are_ you? What are you doing here? Explain yourself!" The witch was obviously upset.

"S—Sirius . . ." he stammered, still stunned by her sudden appearance and barrage of questions.

"Serious?" she asked, confused. "Serious about what? Whatever are you talking about, boy?"

It was his turn to look confused. "What?" he asked. Then he understood. "Oh. No. I mean, my name. It's Sirius . . . as in the star. I'm—I'm looking for Professor Dumbledore. I'm supposed to meet with him. He's expecting me."

The witch, whom Sirius suspected was probably a professor, gave him a stern look over her glasses. Then her expression softened a bit. "Well, you're in the wrong place. This is the Gryffindor wing. The headmaster is down a different corridor. Follow me." She began walking briskly down the hall. After several twists and turns, the woman stopped at a very ugly gargoyle statue. She said something in a voice too low for him to make out clearly, but he'd have sworn it had something to do with "fizzing whizbees."

Almost immediately after she spoke, the gargoyle leapt out of the way and the wall behind it opened, revealing a moving spiral staircase. The witch stepped on, motioning for him to follow.

Sirius stepped onto the moving stairs, nervously, although he didn't let it show. He wasn't used to such extravagances, and they made him uncomfortable. His father never wasted magic on frills when it could be put to use elsewhere. That was one thing that made him so dangerous.

The stairs finally stopped, and Sirius found himself facing a huge oak door. The witch knocked on it.

"Come in," came a voice from inside the room. It was the voice of an old man, but there was power behind it. Sirius shivered even as the witch motioned for him to go in. Obviously she didn't plan on following. He swallowed hard and opened the door.

The inside of the office looked like a tornado had swept through . Many pictures, presumably of old headmasters, snoozed on the wall. Many more, however, were still on the floor, propped against the walls and furniture. A large gold perch sat in the middle of the room. A gold plate filled with ash sat beneath it, and sitting in the ash was a small baby bird of some sort. The faint smell of smoke hung in the air. Sirius didn't think he wanted to know why.

A very old man in brightly colored robes stood in the midst of the chaos. He had long gray hair and an even longer gray beard, making him appear very old. But his twinkling blue eyes gave the impression of youth and power. Those kind blue eyes were now focused on the tall, uncertain boy who stood before him.

The old man was clearly Dumbledore. He also was not what Sirius had expected, but in this case, Sirius was relieved. He couldn't see what scared his father so much about this man, but maybe that was a good thing.

Dumbledore motioned to Sirius. "Close the door behind you, please. I wouldn't want Peeves to take that open door as an invitation."

Sirius quickly closed the door. He turned back to face the headmaster. "Peeves?" he asked uncertainly.

Dumbledore smiled. "Our resident poltergeist."

So that was the bugger's name . . . Peeves. Figured.

"Sit down, my dear boy. There's a clear chair around here somewhere." Dumbledore dragged a stool over and perched on top of it. "Please excuse the state of my office. I was only just made headmaster, and am still moving things from my old one. I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be relieved when I finish getting my things out of her new office. She's the new transfiguration teacher."

Sirius had cleared off a half-buried chair behind him and sat, remaining quiet for Dumbledore's entire discussion, not quite sure how to take it. He'd never heard of people in power chatting with the sons of their enemies. It was almost as bizarre as the rest of this place.

Dumbledore pulled a small box from the pocket of his robes. "Would you care for a sherbet lemon?"

"No." Was this a joke?

Dumbledore popped a candy into his mouth and finally got down to business. "So, you are Sirius Riddle. That would be a relation to Tom Marvolo Riddle?"

Here it comes, he thought, nodding glumly.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "I remember him. One of the brightest students in the school. I had wondered what happened to him."

"He's my father," Sirius said softly.

"I see . . . I never imagined Tom as the family type."

Sirius kept his eyes focused on a crack in the floor. "He's not. He killed my mum." He didn't bother hiding the hatred in his voice.

With this abrupt admission, the atmosphere in the room suddenly changed. Sirius took a deep breath and, before Dumbledore could reply, he recounted what he knew of his father's history, from his search for immortality and transformation into Lord Voldemort to the death of Sirius' mother. He faltered there, unsure if he should mention the Unforgivables being used on him.

Dumbledore had been quiet that whole time, but now he spoke. "So, Tom has become this Lord Voldemort? I had expected he was involved, but I didn't realize he was that far gone. He's been killing the muggle families, then?"

Sirius nodded. "Not just him, though. He has followers. At least sixteen now. He calls them his Death Eaters, since their goal is to live forever. My mum was a Death Eater . . ."

Dumbledore gave Sirius a concerned look. The teasing was gone from his eyes. Did Voldemort try to drag you in as well?"

"Yes."

"Did you follow?"

Sirius sighed. "I don't know. I refused at first, but then he put the Imperius curse on me. I—I can't really remember much after that."

"How long?" asked Dumbledore gently.

"Two years." Sirius' voice was barely audible. "I began breaking free almost four months ago. I don't know how, but that's the first clear thing I remember since . . . that night. I didn't know what to do. He'd have killed me if he found out. So I pretended to follow him. Then the letter came and I thought I could escape somehow. So, when he sent me out to kill some mudbloods . . . I let them go, but I destroyed the house . . . so I would seem dead . . . in a mistaken spell . . ."

Sirius had almost forgotten about Dumbledore by then. He was speaking more to himself. Reliving the past few years. "The mudbloods didn't die, but I . . . I don't know . . . I mean, if he sent me to kill them . . . I don't know what I did for those two years. . . I don't know if I—"

"Sirius," Dumbledore said gently, "anything you did while under Voldemort's power is not your fault. Do not torture yourself on account of him."

Sirius didn't answer, still focusing on the floor.

Dumbledore leaned in closer to Sirius. "I need to ask you a few questions. I know that you are upset, but you must answer these."

Sirius finally looked up at him. "Alright."

"Could anyone from the house you destroyed identify you?"

"No. I wore a mask."

"Did anyone see you leave, masked or not?"

He shook his head. "I left by floo powder. I'd tossed my wand into the fire with the Death Eater mask before I left. The only person I've seen since, besides people here, was a woman named Rosemerta at Hogsmeade. All she knows is my first name, and that I have a—ah—friend here."

"Good," Dumbledore murmered. "You may be safe then . . . Was your wand ebony and dragon heartstring by any chance?"

"Yes . . . how did you—"

Dumbledore held up his hand. "Patience. Think carefully, now. Did you break your wand before you left?"

"No."

"Did you use any dark magic there?"

"No. The only spell I used was Incendio. Why?"

Dumbledore smiled grimly and pulled a paper out from beneath a pile of books on the desk behind him. He handed the paper to Sirius. " _The Daily Prophet_ ran an article on your attack last night. Your fire didn't destroy much. Only a couple of rooms, but the Ministry did find your wand in the kitchen, snapped in half, and apparently an image was set in the sky."

Sirius didn't have to ask about the image. _The Prophet_ had a picture of it: a skull and snake. He looked up. "What does it mean?"

"I was hoping you could tell me. They're calling it the 'Dark Mark.'"

Sirius shook his head, confused. I've never seen it before. This is new."

Dumbledore sighed. "I see. Then Voldemort must be getting bold."

Sirius wasn't listening. "Wait. Did you say my wand was in the kitchen?"

"Yes."

"I left it in the living room."

"I assumed as much, if you left by floo. They think your wand was used to send up the Dark Mark, and then was broken, so that Priori Incantatem couldn't be used to trace the wand's previous spells. You realize what this means, Sirius? If they thought just breaking the wand would erase your past, then they very likely think you're dead. You should be safe at Hogwarts as long as we change your name, and you keep a low profile."

Sirius almost jumped out of his chair. "You—you mean I can stay? Even though my father—"

"You are not your father. You will be judged here by your own choices, not by his."

Sirius' jaw had dropped. "I can really stay?"

Dumbledore laughed at the boy's amazement. "Of course. You've already been accepted. Anyway, from what you've shown me in here, I see none of your father in you. I see no reason why you shouldn't stay." He paused, letting it sink in, then commented, "You seem surprised."

"I expected to be refused on my father's account. I expected to have to live as a muggle for the rest of my life."

Dumbledore smiled. "Well, now you need not. However, there is the problem of your name. Are there many who would recognize you?"

Sirius shook his head. "I was my father's little secret. Only the Death Eaters knew about me and they had sworn to tell no one, not even their families. I was some secret weapon or something. And I've only told my first name to Rosemerta in Hogsmeade and the witch who let me in here."

"That would be Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore replied. "Sirius is not exactly a common name, and I would have been much more comfortable having changed that as well, but since you've used it recently that can't be helped. However we can change your last name. Would 'Black' work? It seems simple enough to remember. 'Sirius Black.'"

Sirius nodded, only half listening. He was still too stunned. He could stay. Maybe he wouldn't be killed after all.

"Wonderful!" Dumbledore stated, breaking into Sirius' thoughts. "I'll change your name in the records. Meanwhile, we'll have to get you to Diagon Alley to pick up your school supplies. You understand that for a time you will need to stay strictly on Hogwarts grounds to ensure your safety, even over the holidays. I would not even be sending you to Diagon Alley this time, if you didn't need to get a new wand. Do you understand?"

"Of course," Sirius replied.

"Good," Dumbledore stood and began walking toward the door.

Sirius followed, lost in his thoughts. He spoke as they left the room and stepped onto the stairs, which, Sirius observed, now moved downward. "Professor Dumbledore, Death Eaters obviously made it to that house," Sirius said suddenly, voicing a concern that had been troubling him since he'd seen the _Daily Prophet_. "You wouldn't know, would you, if the mudbloods are alright? I sent them to the Ministry. My father hasn't tried to get in, has he?"

Dumbledore turned to Sirius. "They are fine, but I must insist on a few things, Sirius. First, Voldemort is no longer your father. Your father was a man named Tom Riddle, who no longer exists. Put that out of your mind. Both of your parents are dead to you from now on. Second, with your background, this is hardly your fault, but you must never use the term 'mudblood.' The proper term is 'muggle born.' 'Mudblood' is a cruel insult, and it is beneath you to use it."

Sirius looked away, embarrassed, but nodded.

"Finally," Dumbledore continued, "I suspect Voldemort has taught you some, shall we say, _specialized_ magic. You must be careful about this. Pace yourself with the rest of the students for awhile and never use dark magic."

Sirius looked up and met Dumbledore's eyes. "I don't ever intend to use dark magic again," he said firmly.

"Good."

At this point, they stairs had stopped, and the two began walking down the corridors toward the Gryffindor wing. Professor McGonagall stood in front of the portrait, speaking with a female ghost. As Dumbledore approached, the ghost curtsied and left, smiling at Sirius. Professor McGonagall turned to Dumbledore. "Headmaster," she acknowledged politely, sending Sirius an interested look.

Dumbledore nodded to her. "Professor. I hear you have already met our new student, Sirius Black."

McGonagall nodded. "Yes. I ran into him here, in fact. Literally."

"I was wondering if you could do me a favor. Sirius needs to pick up his school items at Diagon Alley. Would you be so kind as to accompany him? I would have sent Hagrid, but he's already left to pick up some flesh-eating slug repellant, I believe."

McGonagall looked surprised. "Wouldn't he much rather go with his family?"

Dumbledore sighed. "His family is... gone. Special arrangements have been made for him because of this."

"Oh, dear. Of course I can take him." She sent Sirius a guilty look, obviously regretting the mention of family in front of him. "We'll go immediately. Come on, Mr. Black."

Sirius followed obediently, used to taking orders.

It wasn't until they were outside, hailing the Knight Bus, that Sirius realized he'd forgotten to tell Dumbledore about the Avada Kedavra curse being used on him.

But perhaps that was a good thing for now. Sirius wouldn't have known how to react to either sympathy or pity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thank you for any and all reviews. They are really appreciated. I hope you enjoyed this new addition. Keep your eyes open for Chapter 3: A Place for Everything, and Everything in Its Place! Until then, happy reading and (hopefully) reviewing!


	4. A Place for Everything, and Everything in Its Place

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 3—A Place for Everything, and Everything in Its Place**

The trip to Diagon Alley was an interesting one. Sirius had never been shopping anywhere except for one quick trip to Knockturn Alley to pick up his old wand when he was six. This time he found himself enthralled by everything he saw in this new place, much to Professor McGonagall's amusement.

They'd stopped at Gringotts first, where he'd quietly changed the name on Vault #711 to "Sirius Black." Then, after picking up some money at the vault (which, much to Sirius' astonishment, was loaded with Galleons among other things, and in the high security section no less), he and the professor began their shopping.

Their last stop was Ollivander's Wand Shop. The professor sent him in to pick up a wand, while she made a quick purchase at Flourish and Blots. He entered the wand shop uncertainly.

As soon as the door closed behind Sirius, a bright-eyed man appeared out of nowhere. Sirius assumed that this must be Mr. Ollivander.

"Hello," said the man. "Come in. Let's have a look at you."

Sirius uncertainly came closer. Two tape measures followed him, taking measurements. After a few moments of this, Ollivander seemed satisfied and immediately took a box from his third shelf.

"Unicorn hair and maple. Eleven-and-a-half inches. Which is your wand arm?"

Sirius held out his left hand, and Ollivander handed him the wand.

"Try it."

It felt wrong. Sirius could tell immediately. He wasn't pure enough for unicorn hair, he supposed. He waved the wand anyway, causing five wands to come flying at him. He barely ducked out of the way as they hit the wall behind him.

"Not quite," sighed Ollivander, retrieving the wand. He took a longer box from the first shelf. "Dragon heartstring and ebony. Fourteen inches."

Sirius took the wand, inwardly cringing. It was almost identical to the wand Voldemort had given to him. He waved it. A window broke.

"No. That's not right either." Ollivander took back this wand as well and searched for a new one.

Sirius stared at the broken window in stunned relief. It was as though the rejection of that wand had broken another tie with Voldemort. It was a great comfort.

He snapped out of it as a third wand was placed in his hand. "Dragon heartstring and oak. Thirteen inches," Ollivander said.

Sirius waved the wand more carefully this time. Silver and red light came from the wand as it accepted him. "Odd," Sirius thought. His last wand had shot out silver and green sparks.

Ollivander smiled. "That's better, Mr. . . ?"

"Oh—uh—Black. Sirius Black." Sirius stuck out his hand to shake the shop owner's.

Ollivander accepted the greeting and commented, "The wand will be six Galleons and four Sickles."

Sirius paid him and waited while the wand was wrapped.

Finally, Ollivander handed him his change and his wand, commenting, "That wand will be especially good for protection, Mr. Black. Perhaps you will put it to good use."

Sirius just nodded, suddenly creeped out, and left the store. Protection, huh? Odd coincidence. It left him with an eerie feeling. He was relieved to find Professor McGonagall quickly, so they could return to Hogwarts, where he would hopefully not need his wand's special powers quite so badly.

It was four more weeks until the rest of the students arrived at the school aboard the Hogwarts Express. Until that time, Sirius slept in the Gryffindor wing, and mostly kept to himself, often reading in the library, looking futilely for anything that mentioned Patrono Sangre.

The day the rest of the students arrived, Sirius hauled his few possessions out of the Gryffindor common room and into the wide entranceway to the school. He'd been given a brief explanation of the sorting ceremony by Professor McGonagall, whom he'd learned was head of Gryffindor house. Apparently, he, along with the rest of the first years, would be sorted into the different houses during the banquet that night. He hoped he was sorted into Gryffindor, but then anything would be better than Slytherin, his father's old house.

Sirius was standing in the middle of the entranceway when the rest of the first years bustled in around him. He stood as still as a statue, making eye contact with no one. The large group made him feel nervous and exposed, especially since he was at least a head taller than most of them. Several students were casting him curious looks, and he could hear whispered comments all around him.

"Who is he?"

"I don't know. He wasn't on the train."

"How did he get here?"

"He's a _first_ year? He looks like third or fourth!"

"He's kind of cute . . ."

Much to Sirius' relief, Professor Nocturna, the deputy headmistress, and head of Slytherin house, appeared at the top of the stairs just then to greet them, drawing much of the attention away from him. She was a tall, slender witch, with silver hair and expressionless silver eyes. She trained those cold eyes on the first years. When they quieted down, she gave them all the same spiel about the sorting that McGonagall had given Sirius, so he tuned it out and glanced at the other students. Although most were now listening to the professor, several were still staring at him.

Sirius noticed a thin, pale boy with light brown hair gazing around the room as though he couldn't believe he were actually there. Sirius knew the feeling.

A short, dark-haired boy with round glasses turned to Sirius and grinned. "I wish she'd just let us go in and get sorted. The waiting's torture isn't it?"

Sirius nodded.

Before the boy could say any more, Nocturna finished, and the first years were lead into the banquet hall. The rest of the students already sat with their houses waiting for the ceremony to begin. Sirius was looking everywhere at once. The ceiling looked like a starry night sky, and there were candles floating over their heads.

As they walked up the center aisle, Sirius noticed the teachers all sitting at the head table. Professor Dumbledore sat in the center and Professor McGonagall sat near the end. In front of this table was a small stool standing on its own with a battered-looking old hat atop it.

Sirius and the other students exchanged puzzled looks, as Nocturna made her way to the hat. Just as she stood beside it, the hat perked up, and Sirius realized that, like the rest of this place, it was enchanted, some of its folds and tears apparently serving as eyes and a mouth.

As if that weren't peculiar enough, the hat began to sing.

_"Oh, years ago when I was made,_

_Four wizards brave and strong_

_Together sent their powers forth_

_And Hogwarts came along._

_There were some disagreements_

_From which four houses grew._

_In each house, different strengths were praised;_

_Different weaknesses, too._

_Those of Godric Gryffindor_

_Were brave and strong and true,_

_While with Rowena Ravenclaw_

_Wisdom and learning grew._

_Helga Hufflepuff believed_

_The best work hard and try._

_And Salazaar Slytherin put stock_

_In those both "pure" and sly._

_Now years since its creation,_

_Divided is this school,_

_Each student in a different house_

_With a different golden rule._

_I, myself, the Sorting Hat_

_Was given wits to choose_

_Which students that a house should gain_

_And which a house shall lose._

_I've three considerations_

_In choosing where you'll go._

_One is your raw talent;_

_The different strengths you show._

_Another is the choice you make._

_I'll listen to your plea._

_But the last consideration_

_Is the strongest of the three._

_If you're of a founder's blood,_

_Your place is already set;_

_Your house already chosen,_

_Without the first conditions met._

_So, sit back and relax._

_Be glad that you can know_

_I never once have chosen wrong._

_I'll sort you where you ought to go."_

The song ended and there was silence in the Great Hall for a moment. Then Nocturna picked up a scroll and began listing names.

"Anderson, Aramea."

A nervous blonde girl came up and was motioned to sit on the stool as Nocturna picked the Sorting Hat up. As soon as she sat, the hat was placed upon her head. After a moment's hesitation, it cried out in a loud voice, "Ravenclaw!"

Aramea happily ran to join her house, and Nocturna read the next name.

"Bannister, Jacob."

Bannister was a Gryffindor.

"Black, Sirius."

The gentle murmuring among the first years quieted as he made his way to the hat. Sirius sat on the stool and the hat was placed on him. Almost immediately he heard a voice speaking in his head. He forced down a surge of panic as foggy memories of the _Imperius_ curse were reawakened. He squished his eyes shut and blocked out the nightmarish thoughts. It was just a stupid hat. He had to relax.

"Dark images, those were," the hat whispered. "You could have been a difficult one to sort, but you're Sirius Black, eh?" The hat chuckled. "I know you. You can't fool me. You have founder's blood in you."

"Gryffindor. Gryffindor. _Please_ ," Sirius willed the hat.

"So, you want Gryffindor? Normally I would honor that, you've certainly the bravery and strength for it, but I'm afraid this time I can't. Not with Salazaar Slytherin's blood in your veins. No, it will have to be . . . Slytherin!"

The hat shouted the house name so that everyone could hear. The Slytherin table cheered. Sirius' shoulders slumped. He sighed deeply as he made his way to his house, feeling that he couldn't be that much better than his father to land in Slytherin.

Sirius sat next to an older blonde boy. A frightening ghost covered in silver blood drifted by, sending Sirius a vaguely interested look. A blonde girl built like a house, identified the ghost as the Bloody Baron. The boy next to him turned to Sirius and smirked. "Sirius Black, hmm? I figured you'd be Slytherin. You seemed the right type. I'm Lucius. My family's been coming to Hogwarts for generations, even though this school doesn't pride itself in purebloods like it should, but the last headmaster was . . . useful. Then Dumbledore had to become headmaster . . . he's a muggle-lover, you know. My father said that if I weren't already a sixth year, he'd have transferred me to Drumstrang."

"My mother went to Durmstrang," Sirius commented, lightly.

"Really? Did she like it? I'll bet it's better than Hogwarts. They're almost all purebloods there. And I hear that they even teach the dark arts."

Sirius shrugged. "She didn't talk about it much."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "I see. So, you're mum's a witch. Is your dad a wizard? I only ask because I wondered if _you're_ a pureblood. 'Black' is such a muggle name. I only know of one other wizarding family with _that_ as a surname."

"He's a wizard," Sirius replied, shortly. He didn't really like this boy, but he didn't think he was going to like anyone in his house. He'd have to try to make _some_ friends, though, if he planned to survive seven years here.

It was a moment before Lucius spoke again. "That one looks like he won't make second year," he said with a laugh, motioning to the boy about to be sorted. It was the pale boy Sirius had noticed earlier. Professor Nocturna had called him Remus Lupin. Sirius watched the boy with interest, hoping he'd be Slytherin. It would be more tolerable with at least one kind face . . .

"Ravenclaw!" the hat announced.

Darn. No such luck.

"Murdock, Marnie."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Perkins, Charlie."

"Slytherin!"

"Pettigrew, Peter."

"Hufflepuff!"

It was getting repetitive and boring. The dark-haired boy who'd greeted him in the entranceway was apparently named James Potter, and was now a Gryffindor.

Finally, the sorting ended, much to Sirius' relief, with a tall, greasy-haired boy named Severus Snape being sorted into Slytherin, and a big black boy named John Stebbins becoming a Hufflepuff.

After a few odd comments by the new headmaster, and a warning about staying away from the newly planted whomping willow unless they wanted to lose limbs, they were allowed to eat. It was during the feast that Sirius finally learned Lucius' surname.

"Hey, Malfoy!" a brawny fourth year, Jules Flint, shouted. "I hear you got a new Nimbus 1001. When do we get to see it?"

"Not until practice, of course. I won't risk it being wrecked before a game," Lucius Malfoy snapped.

Sirius had momentarily stopped eating to stare at Malfoy. "Oh God," he thought, horrified. How had he not noticed before? Lucius Malfoy was Brutus Malfoy's son. And Brutus was a Death Eater. Sirius turned back to his food, picking at it now, and feeling sick. What if Lucius mentioned the name "Sirius" to his father? What if Brutus passed it on to Voldemort? It wasn't likely, Death Eaters weren't exactly great communicators, but it could happen.

"Why did I have to be Slytherin?" Sirius thought, worry killing his appetite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Thanks for reading this chapter, and stay tuned for chapter 4: Clockwork!


	5. Clockwork

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 4—Clockwork**

Apparently Voldemort did not hear of the Sirius at Hogwarts, because Sirius' first year, although eventful, was relatively safe. Unfortunately, however, it didn't go exactly as he had hoped, and being sorted into Slytherin was only the beginning. Any new student entering a school like this would expect some problems, but none to this degree.

First, there was the fact that he had no idea how to deal with other people his age. His only interactions with anyone before coming here were generally with Death Eaters. Now, at Hogwarts, he often found himself avoiding conversations and separating himself from everyone. As a result, he began gaining the reputation of an arrogant Slytherin who was too good for anyone else. The few times he actually _could_ be found in a crowd, it was always with his own house, and often they were getting into trouble. This earned him a number of punishments for things he hadn't even done, making him appear not only arrogant, but a dangerous troublemaker as well.

His only saving grace for the first few months was the groundskeeper, Hagrid, with whom Sirius was often sent to serve his detentions. They made an odd pair, but Sirius was more comfortable with Hagrid anyway, perhaps because he, too, was a bit of an outcast in the school. And Hagrid was more than happy to have him over, especially once he learned how much experience Sirius had with dangerous creatures.

Classes were also difficult for Sirius. He had to pace himself in potions and charms, then would go to transfiguration and struggle, because he didn't have any of the basics that most of the other students had learned at home. His most comfortable class was flying, where he was only bested by Potter. It was a relief to find something he could be normal at.

But the worse of his problems came from his unusual circumstances, themselves. He spent a lot of time that year in the hospital wing. The first time, he'd nearly collapsed in McGonagall's class.

Snape had been talking to him when his scar suddenly reacted as though it were on fire, the intensity almost forcing him to stop breathing. It was the worst he'd felt it burn since just after he'd been almost killed two years ago. He clutched his chest and nearly fell from his chair, putting McGonnagall into a panic. She'd instantly brought him down to Madame Pomphrey, where he'd finally blacked out after repeatedly refusing to let her check him properly.

He'd waken up later to the sound of familiar voices just outside the room.

"Albus, is he alright?" came McGonagall's voice. "What's wrong with the boy? I could understand him isolating himself and causing some trouble. I assumed it had to do with the loss of his parents, but there are other things. He doesn't seem to recognize his own name at times. And now this!"

"What exactly is this?" Dumbledore asked softly.

This seemed to agitate her even more. "That's just it! We don't know. He almost collapsed in my class. Poppy thinks he may have some heart illness, but he wouldn't let her check. He was obviously in pain, but he seemed to be more upset by _us_ than by his condition."

"I see," Dumbledore replied after a small pause. "Let me talk to him and see what I can find out. Why don't you go to the hall for supper? I'll be along shortly."

"Of course, Albus." Sirius heard her footsteps retreating down the hall. A moment later, Dumbledore entered the room.

Sirius opened his eyes to see the headmaster take a seat near the bed, a concerned look on his face.

"I expect you heard most of that."

Sirius nodded.

"Then you already know what I'm going to ask?"

"It's not my heart," Sirius replied in a raspy voice. His throat was dry and he was thirsty. On the table beside the bed was a glass of water, which Dumbledore handed to him. Sirius drank greedily while Dumbledore spoke.

"Professor McGonagall is worried about you, as are Madame Pomphrey and myself. Sirius, is there anything you can tell me about this?"

Sirius set the water glass back on the table and laid down, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the steady pain he still felt. "I think so," came his soft reply. "Is this room safe?"

"Your secrets are safe here."

Sirius nodded. "Alright, then." He opened his pale blue eyes and looked at Dumbledore intently. "I think my—I mean, I think Voldemort did something today. Something bad. Worse than anything he's done in the last two years."

Dumbledore seemed mildly surprised. "Yes, actually. He, or one of his Death Eaters, apparently killed an entire family, sending that mark up again. This is the most he's ever killed at once. Your pain is caused by that, then." It was more a statement than a question.

Sirius nodded. "He... did something to me when he killed my mum." He motioned to his chest. "He hit me here, and I think I somehow got linked to him. It always hurt around him. It was worse when he attacked someone. Ever since I got away from him, the pain's been gone... until today. That's how I knew he'd done something."

Dumbledore looked deeply concerned. "So, this will likely happen again. In that case, Poppy will be seeing you frequently, as I expect we'll be hearing more from Voldemort. I'll have to tell her something. Will a heart condition do? She seems rather partial to that one."

Sirius smiled weakly and nodded. "I think it's fading with time. It hurt much worse during the first attacks."

Dumbledore stood, a grave expression on his lined face. "I hope so. You've been through enough already. Take care, Sirius. If the pain _does_ get too bad, tell me. I doubt I can completely remove it, but perhaps I can dull it a bit."

"Alright."

Dumbledore made his way to the door. He was just in the hall when Sirius called out, "Headmaster!"

"Yes?" Dumbledore stepped back into the room, shutting the door behind him.

Sirius took a deep breath. "The pain usually starts just before Voldemort acts. I could tell you and you could alert someone. I wouldn't have any details, but at least you'd know he was coming."

Dumbledore smiled. "I will certainly consider it. But for now, I want you to only concern yourself with resting."

Two days later, Sirius sat in transfiguration class again, fighting to stay awake. He'd spent the last couple of days pretending to take Madame Pomphrey's potions for his "heart problem" and the past three nights unable to sleep because of the pain, which had finally faded enough early that morning for him to go to class. He'd been a zombie for his early classes. By now he was ready to drop off at any moment. Thank God this was his last class.

Sirius closed his eyes and rested his chin on his hand, tuning McGonagall out. He couldn't believe she was still talking, anyway. Class would be over in a few minutes.

"Mr. Black!" came her stern voice suddenly.

Apparently some poor kid had been asked a question.

"Mr. Black!" she said a second time. She was coming closer.

Sirius hoped that "Mr. Black" would respond soon or else McGonagall was going to catch him napping.

Then something clicked. Wait a minute. _He_ was Mr. Black! His head snapped up and his eyes opened to see McGonagall standing directly in front of him. Giggles and snickers surrounded him.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "So, you've decided to rejoin us, Mr. Black? Five points from Slytherin. And I would like to speak with you after class."

Sirius just nodded and stifled a yawn, knowing it wouldn't help his situation any.

Class ended soon, and the students filed out past Sirius, many smirking at him, and a few point-conscientious Slytherins scowling. He approached McGonagall's desk, bracing himself for her anger.

She looked up at him from her seat. "Are you feeling well?" she asked.

Sirius blinked, and stared at her for a moment. This certainly wasn't what he'd expected. "I'm fine."

McGonagall actually looked concerned. "Madame Pomphrey has told me about your condition. She also said you haven't slept much. Are you sure you're ready for classes?"

"I'm fine. It's not a big deal. I'll sleep tonight." He knew McGonagall had wanted more than that, but he couldn't tell her much. Anyway, he still wasn't used to anyone taking an interest in him this way.

McGonagall must have sensed that this was the best answer that she'd get, because she simply nodded. "Fine, then. See that you don't fall asleep in class again. You may go." She stood and gathered her things, so she could leave for supper.

Sirius nodded and went back to his seat to get his books as well. There were only two other students in the room, a couple of Gryffindor girls, still gathering up their things as they spoke.

The pretty, red-haired girl laughed. "So, Jenny, are you ready for the holidays?"

A short, plump blonde, nodded. "Yeah! Imagine... no homework! Only two more weeks! I can't wait. And I get to see my kid brother again. How about you? Excited to see your sister?"

The other girl shrugged. "Yes and no. Petunia and I don't get along too well. She doesn't like magic much..."

That last comment caught Sirius' attention, and before he could stop himself, he turned to the girl and asked, "Wait, are you a mu—er—a muggle-born?" stopping himself from calling her a mudblood just in time. The other Slytherins used the word constantly, but Sirius had been carefully avoiding it since his conversation with Dumbledore.

"Yes," the red-haired girl said. "So?"

The blonde narrowed her eyes at him. "Come on, Lily. Let's go."

He could imagine her calling him a "dirty Slytherin" in her mind, but he brushed her off and focused on Lily... the muggle-born... with interest. "Can I ask you a question?"

Lily frowned. "Like what? Why they let mudbloods like me in? Sorry, but your friend, Malfoy beat you to it. Why don't you ask him?"

"Actually," Sirius said slowly, "it was just a simple question about clocks."

"Clocks?" Lily looked surprised. She exchanged suspicious looks with Jenny.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah. I spent a little time at a muggle house this summer, and I couldn't figure out how to read their clock. It only had two hands." He shrugged. "I know it's a stupid question. I just wondered. And when I heard you were muggle-born, I figured you'd know... Sorry. I shouldn't have asked." He turned back to his things, embarrassed. "Great," he thought. "Now I'm not only the arrogant Slytherin, I'm the weird and stupid one, too. So much for fitting in."

A minute later, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, startled. It was Lily, looking a bit sheepish. Her friend was gone.

"I'm sorry about that," she said softly. "That wasn't fair of me. Here I am, angry that the other Slytherins keep judging me because of what I am, and then I go and do it to you." She looked away, flustered, refusing to make eye contact. She continued in a low voice. "It's just that every Slytherin who's asked me a question has also called me a mudblood." She scowled at the word.

Sirius nodded, grateful he'd caught himself in time. "Like Lucius, right?"

"Yeah. Like him. I'm sorry. Do you still want to know about the clocks?"

Sirius set his books back on the table. "Yeah. Have you got a minute?"

Lily smiled. "Sure. Here, look." She took off her wristwatch and handed to him. Sirius listened with interest as Lily explained the workings of the muggle watch. "You see?" she said, when she was done. "It really isn't that difficult."

Sirius nodded and examined the watch closer. He'd never admit it to the other Slytherins who were disdainful of anything less than pureblood wizardry, but ever since he'd seen that muggle-style house, he'd grown a bit interested in muggles and their ways. Why was Voldemort killing them? Sirius suddenly noticed Lily staring at him. Embarrassed to be caught zoning out like that, he quickly commented, "So it only tells time? It doesn't say where people are or anything?" He flipped the watch over and inspected its back. "That's where it confused me. I didn't see what it could possibly do with only two hands. It's kind of neat, though." He gave the watch back to Lily, who was sending him a strange look. "What?" he asked, startled by that green-eyed stare.

"Your name's Black, right?"

"Yeah," he replied with a chuckle. "No need to ask how you know that. McGonagall must have yelled it twenty times today."

She shook her head, her red hair glimmering in the dim light. "No. I'd heard it before. I've heard some of the other Gryffindors talking about you." She blushed, and Sirius suspected that meant whatever she'd heard about him wasn't particularly good. She went on. "But it's odd. They made you out to be so high and mighty, like you're someone scary, and I have a hard time matching that up with the Sirius Black I've just met. Actually, you're the first decent Slytherin I've come across."

Sirius didn't answer. He didn't know what to say.

Lily smiled, then. "I should be getting back. Jenny's going to think something's happened to me." She didn't add, "because I'm alone with you," but she didn't need to. He understood. Lily put her watch back on and gathered her books from the table.

Sirius picked up his, too. "Which way are you going?" he asked.

"Gryffindor wing to drop my things off. Then to the Great Hall for supper."

"Then I'll walk with you until we get to the stairs." He didn't want to sound so desperate for companionship, but it was so nice actually having someone his age who was _friendly_. It was something most people took for granted, but it really meant something to him.

They left the room and began walking down that hall. Lily grinned at him. "Here's something no one would believe. I have my own Slytherin escort. You sure no one in your house is going to care that you're walking with a muggle-born Gryffindor?"

Sirius smirked. "No one's around to see us. Anyway, I've already got the rest of the school mistrusting me. Might as well estrange myself from my own house, too."

That made her laugh again. Sirius had never heard anyone laugh so much. Of course, he'd rarely heard anyone laugh at all before he'd come here. "Really," he said.

"If you say so, Black."

He smiled faintly. "Call me Sirius."

"What?"

"My name's Sirius. I feel weird when people just call me 'Black.'" They turned a corner and hurried past Peeves, who was writing on the walls. Filch, the caretaker would be furious as usual. They didn't want to be around when he arrived.

Once they got clear of the poltergeist, Lily responded, "Alright. Well, I'm Lily Evans." She paused. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone use your first name since the sorting. Is that reserved for friends and people who explain muggle clocks to you?" she teased.

Sirius snorted, unintentionally allowing a trace of bitterness to creep into his voice. "What friends? I'm the 'arrogant troublemaker,' remember?"

Lily looked startled, the smile fading from her lips. "I didn't realize you'd heard..."

A grim smile curled his lips, not quite making it to his eyes. "Most people don't. They think I'm too arrogant to listen or something. It doesn't matter." He shrugged.

Lily got a stubborn look in her eyes. "It _does_ matter. They shouldn't say it any more than I should have treated you that way. That's not you at all. It's funny how people can mistake quiet for arrogant. Especially," she added sarcastically, "if you're a dreaded Slytherin." She sounded disgusted.

They walked in silence for a few minutes after that outburst. Sirius stole a glance at her. What he wouldn't give for a friend like that. He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice where they were, and when she stopped suddenly, he almost ran into her. They were at the intersection between the four house wings. In front of them stood a huge stairway that led up to a landing from which four more stairways went in four different directions. The Gryffindor and Slytherin wings were on opposite ends.

"I'll see you later, then, Sirius," said Lily.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, I'd better hurry. I can't imagine having to explain to the rest of my house that I was late for dinner because I was talking to a Gryffindor."

I thought you didn't care if they made you an outcast because of me!" she teased.

"Maybe I do a little."

Lily's green eyes twinkled. "Our secret, then. See you!' She ran up the stairs to her wing, leaving Sirius to take the opposite corridor to his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: See you! Please review!


	6. A Friend in Need

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 5—A Friend in Need**

Sirius didn't see Lily again for nearly two weeks. And when he finally did, a couple of days before Christmas break, it wasn't under the best of circumstances. He'd stayed late after his potions class to speak with Nocturna, who, along with being the deputy headmistress, was also Sirius' potions professor. As head of Slytherin house, she had wanted to discuss the idea of Sirius playing Quidditch the following year. He was an excellent flyer, and the team needed the help. Nocturna would have loved to make him seeker, even though he wasn't of the usual build, except that Lucius Malfoy, the current seeker would still be a player for one more year. The keeper position, however, would be open and Nocturna was urging Sirius to consider.

It should have been an honor, really, a first year being invited to join the house team next year, but Sirius didn't know how to reply. The idea of finally being part of something appealed to him, but on the other hand he was no fool either. He knew that he tended to isolate himself and he suspected that this trait wouldn't be particularly useful in a team sport. And he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Not yet. But Nocturna was insistent, and he only got away after promising to consider the offer. He then hurried to catch up with the rest of his house, who were one their way to charms class.

He was running late and the corridors were quiet and empty. It wasn't until he was nearly at his classroom that he heard talking.

"Stop it!" cried a familiar voice. "You'll hurt her!" It was Lily. Sirius quickened his step.

"Make me, mudblood," sneered the cold voice of Malfoy.

Sirius turned the corner and came upon a group outside the classroom. He skidded to a stop. Malfoy stood facing Lily Evans and James Potter, who had drawn his wand protectively. Behind them, Lily's friend, Jenny sat on the ground, crying. She had angry boils forming on her hands. There was no need to wonder where they'd come from. Malfoy's wand was out. Snape, who stood beside him, was just reaching for his, while sending a nasty look at Potter. The rest of the class were poking their heads out from the classroom. Obviously Flitwick hadn't arrived yet.

Sirius stood frozen for a moment unsure of what to do. He wanted to help Lily, the only student who'd been kind to him, but Malfoy ruled the Slytherins. If Sirius turned against them, he'd feel the wrath of his own house.

Lily noticed him before he could do anything. She sent him a hopeful look. Lucius noticed her attention shift and turned slightly.

"Black," he said smoothly. "Come on. Snape and I were just teaching this little mudblood and her friends a lesson."

"Play along," Sirius thought, not knowing what else to do. He forced a smile and drew his wand, stepping toward the two Slytherins. "Now what?" he wondered. He could see Lily's outraged look of betrayal. But Sirius didn't have time to worry about that. How could he get them out of this? Then an idea struck him.

"Lucius. Severus. We may want to put this off until later. I ran into McGonagall on the way here. She's not far behind me, and she's angry about something."

Malfoy and Snape exchanged looks, and Sirius took that as encouragement. "I don't fancy another detention. And," he went on," don't forget we're fifty points behind Gryffindor. We can't afford to lose more points from her. This can wait, can't it?"

Malfoy narrowed his gray eyes at the Gryffindors. "Later then," he hissed. "Snape. Black. I'll meet you in the common room after classes to . . . discuss this." Malfoy strode down the hall to his arithmancy class.

Snape sent a final scowl at Potter, before pocketing his wand, and entering the charms classroom. Sirius hesitated for only a moment before following. He didn't want to risk looking back, but he heard Lily growl, "I hate Slytherins. _All_ of them. Come on, Jenny. Let's get you to the hospital wing."

In low spirits, Sirius took his usual seat by Snape. The rest of the class was settleing back down now that the excitement was over. Snape, however, wouldn't shut up about how they'd get the Gryffindors later. It was a relief when Flitwick came and began class.

Charms was usually one of Sirius' better subjects. His mother had taught him a great deal of charm work. Much related to the dark arts, but some quite innocent as well. Normally he had to struggle just to pace himself. Today, however, he had a hard time focusing on the lesson. He couldn't get Lily's angry look out of his mind. He wished he could have followed her and explained, but he couldn't risk Malfoy or Snape catching on. Especially Snape. They were a trio: Malfoy, Snape and Black. Malfoy was the leader and Sirius the muscle, but Severus was definitely the brains. It wouldn't have taken him long to figure things out.

"Black, are you in there?" asked Snape coolly, snapping Sirius out of his thoughts. The class had been divided into partners, each group levitating a block and rotating it midair. Sirius and Snape had been paired.

"Sorry," Sirius mumbled. "I was thinking of those Gryffindors." Well, that was technically true…

Snape sneered. "Well, focus on the lesson first. We can deal with them later."

"Right."

It seemed like a long class. Snape had his block rotating pretty well by the end of the period. Sirius kept dropping his. Finally after gaining yet another frustrated glare from Snape, Sirius threw caution to the wind and decided to have a little fun. He needed to clear his mind anyway. With a faint smile, he levitated the block and spun it perfectly. Flitwick was delighted. Then, when the professor turned his back to help another student, Sirius began levitating his classmates' blocks as well, one by one, higher and higher. This took far more concentration. Especially to spin them.

Students began crying out in surprise, especially the ones who weren't even holding their wands. Then Flitwick noticed the blocks and the tiny professor let out a surprised squeak. No one knew what was really happening except for Sirius and of course Snape, whose eyes had narrowed into slits.

"What game are you playing at, Black? Suddenly you're the expert?" he hissed angrily, nudging Sirius.

"Huh?" Sirius asked, startled. That simple action was enough to break his concentration. All of the blocks instantly dropped, raining down on panicked students who dove out of the way.

Flitwick narrowly missed being hit, himself. Shakily, he began gathering the blocks as the bell rang, and dismissed the class. The Slytherins gathered up their things and left for transfiguration.

The fun he'd had playing his trick in charms began to fade as Sirius neared McGonagall's class. The Gryffindors were in this class with the Slytherins. That meant Sirius would have to deal with Lily's angry glares for the whole period. He was used to angry and mistrusting looks, but they would hurt coming from her.

Of course, as it always happened when he didn't want to go somewhere, the route to class felt shorter than usual. Sirius slipped into his seat, glancing around for Lily, Jenny and Potter. Potter sat in his usual seat. He caught Sirius' glance and sent him a glare. Jenny wasn't there, but Sirius had expected as much, assuming she'd still be with Madame Pomphrey. But where was Lily? She wasn't in her seat. Maybe she was still with Jenny. He didn't dare to hope, which was a good thing, because he was wrong. A few minutes later, McGonagall bustled in with a box of buttons. Lily followed, carrying a similar box. She set it down and took her seat, refusing to look at Sirius. That was almost worse that the angry glares he'd expected.

McGonagall started class immediately, pairing each Slytherin with a Gryffindor partner. They were to turn buttons into beetles.

"What is it with partners today?" Sirius wondered idly.

"Mr. Black," said McGonagall, snapping him from his thoughts, "you go sit with Miss Evans."

Sirius sent a horrified look at Lily, whose face was buried in her scroll of notes.

"But—but professor…" he stammered.

McGonagall sent him the sharp look that she'd seemed to reserve specifically for him lately, and said, "No 'buts,' Mr. Black. Now move."

Knowing he didn't have a chance arguing, he slowly stood and walked to Lily's desk. He couldn't help but notice that Snape had been paired with Potter. Sirius got the distinct impression that Lily had told McGonagall about the incident in the hall, and this was their punishment. He grabbed some buttons from the box and sat next to Lily.

She still wouldn't look at him.

Sirius unrolled some parchment and pretended to copy the professor's notes down. "Lily, let me—"

"No," she hissed. "Me first."

His heart sank. Here it came…

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Sirius just blinked at her. "What?"

Lily sent him a guilty look, much to his surprise. "I keep having to say that to you, don't I? But I was so mad at you for backing Malfoy that I didn't think. And when I talked to Professor McGonagall, I understood…"

Sirius stared blankly at her. What was she babbling about?

Lily must have seen his confusion, because she explained in a whisper, "Professor McGonagall met me coming back from the hospital wing and asked me to help her with this stuff. I explained what happened in the hall. When I told her what you'd said, she told me that she had been in a meeting at that time. She couldn't have been in the hall with you. You said that to get rid of Malfoy and Snape, didn't you?"

Sirius didn't answer right away. He stared at his notes. From the corner of this eye he saw that Snape was watching them, and, although he was likely too far away to hear anything, Sirius didn't want to risk it. Without looking at her, he muttered, "I don't know what you're talking about." He made a show of copying some more notes down, at the same time writing a quick note to Lily on the edge of his scroll.

Lily, however kept on about it. "Sirius," she hissed. "I _know_ McGonagall wasn't there in the hall. So, you lied for a reason. If you—" She broke off as Sirius fixed her with a sharp look.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Evans," he said slowly, evenly, and loudly enough for Snape to hear. "Now let's get to work. Here, take some buttons." He slid some over to her.

As she angrily snatched the buttons up, she noticed the note beneath them. It read: "After class."

Sirius watched her expression change as she read the note and slipped it in her robes. They spent the class period hardly speaking to each other unless necessary, just working on their buttons. It wasn't going well. Toward the end of the period a couple of Lily's buttons had legs. The closest Sirius got was turning one of his black. And to make matters worse, McGonagall announced at the end of the period that they would be reversing the process next class. Sirius groaned as the bell rang, and he copied down his homework: Practicing on a few more buttons.

Before Lily could speak to him, Sirius grabbed his buttons and brought them to McGonagall. He dumped them in front of her. "I can't do this stuff," he muttered.

McGonagall looked critically at the pile on her desk, staring extra long at the black one, as though trying to figure out his mistake. He caught a glance from Snape, who was waiting at the door. "Just go," he mouthed. Then he motioned to his pathetic pile of buttons. Snape rolled his eyes and scowled, but to Sirius' relief, he left.

"Mr. Black," said McGonagall sharply, drawing his attention back. Her expression was grim. "Mr. Black," she repeated, when he looked at her, "you're skipping some very basic elements of transfiguration. Are you practicing at all?"

Sirius flushed. "Well, no… but—"

McGonagall interrupted. "No 'buts,' Mr. Black. I've told you this before. There's nothing I can do to help you until you've properly learned the basics, which at your age you should know. Go practice. When you've mastered the basic rules and steps, come to me if you still have trouble."

Sirius nodded and went back to his table. Well, he was definitely going to fail transfiguration, then. How do you practice the basics when your parents never taught you?

When he arrived at the table, Lily was waiting. They were the only students left in the class by then. McGonagall was even getting ready to leave.

"I told everyone I needed to talk to the professor," Lily said in a low voice. "No one knows I'm talking to you."

He sent her a grateful look. "Thanks."

She nodded and jumped right into it. "Sirius, I'm right, aren't I? About why you lied?"

"Yeah, well Malfoy's a jerk. I did what I could."

"You think he's a jerk, but you're still his friend?"

Sirius scowled. "Not really. I told you before. I don't have any friends. But he practically runs my house. It'll be bad if I upset him."

"Really." Lily looked quizzical. "You should stand up to him. He's no better than you are."

Sirius just stared at her. Couldn't she understand? You don't stand up to those types. You worked around them. Looked for a chink in their armor, and _then_ took them down. He'd learned from Voldemort that confrontation was suicide. His mother had learned that the hard way. His scar ached and he closed his eyes as the image of her body hit him, an image he'd unsuccessfully tried to forget. Oh God…

"Sirius?" Lily's worried voice seemed to come from a million miles away. There they were again. Images from his nightmares: a flash of green and he could almost feel the spell hit him. Almost hear the cold, high laugh… Well, his scar _was_ hurting. He'd have to tell Dumbledore. He'd have to—

"Sirius!" Lily's frightened voice broke into his thoughts. He opened his eyes finally and looked at her, dropping his hand to the table. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his chest.

"What? Sorry, I… sorry…" he finished lamely. How could he explain?

"You're white as a ghost," she whispered. "I thought you were sick again. Like you were that day in class when you went to the hospital wing."

Sirius grimaced. That's right. She'd been there when it had happened. He'd forgotten about that. "Yeah. It's something like that again."

"Are you okay?" Lily asked. Apparently the scolding about Malfoy was over. That at least was a relief.

"I'm fine."

Lily didn't look convinced. "What's wrong? What do you have?"

"I said I'm fine!" Sirius snapped. He instantly regretted it when he saw her hurt look. "Wait. I'm sorry. I just don't really want to talk about it." He nervously ran his hand through his dark hair. "My chest hurts me sometimes. That's all. I take a potion for it. I'm fine."

"Oh. I see," said Lily in a small voice. She was fiddling with a quill and seemed upset. "It's not… _bad_ is it?"

"What?"

"It sounds like…" She took a deep breath and spoke in a rush. "My grandpa had heart problems. His chest would hurt and he'd collapse when he'd have an attack, kind of like you do during _your_ attacks… he died from it last Christmas. I just… Yours isn't… You're not—"

"I'm not going to die," Sirius said, finally catching on. "It's not the same. If I were going to die from this, I'd have done it already." His expression darkened. "It doesn't matter, anyway. No one would care."

Lily dropped her quill. "What? Of course people would care if you _died_!"

Sirius laughed dryly. "Right. No one would even notice. I hardly talk to anyone. And if you think Malfoy or Snape would…"

" _I'd_ care," Lily said, clearly upset now. "I'm your friend and _I'd_ care."

Sirius blinked, stunned. She considered him a friend?

Lily continued. "And your family would care. And at Christmastime… it would be just awful!" She shuddered, remembering her grandfather's death, probably.

"I don't have any family," Sirius said quietly. "They're dead." His voice was flat and emotionless.

Lily went almost as pale as he was. "That's terrible," she whispered, clapping her hand over her mouth. "Oh. I'm so sorry. Were they in an accident?"

"I don't want to talk about it." His voice must have told her that the discussion was over. She didn't push it.

Her eyes were wide. "Right. Sorry." She began picking up her things to go, embarrassed and guilty looking.

"You're going home for Christmas, aren't you?" Sirius said, after a moment's pause. "To see your family? Is that how you celebrate it?"

Lily looked back up at him. He didn't seem upset with her, only interested. Almost hungry to hear about her holidays. "Christmas?" she said slowly. "Yeah. It's a big deal at my house. Stockings, tree, gifts, the works. It's fun."

"Sounds like it."

"How did your family celebrate? Or—or would you rather not talk about it?"

Sirius shrugged. "Doesn't matter. We didn't celebrate it. My parents didn't celebrate any holidays."

"Too commercial?" Lily guessed.

"No. They just didn't care. They cared about themselves. That's it." He thought for a moment, then said, "Even if they weren't gone, I'd probably still stay here over the holidays. More cheerful. Especially if I could find a way to stay out of my common room… Not that I'd have been here at all if they were alive," he added thoughtfully.

Lily seemed confused. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

Suddenly Sirius' scar began throbbing again, more instantly this time. He rubbed his chest again. "I really ought to get my potion," he said softly.

"Right," Lily replied, reluctantly. "You're sure you'll be alright?"

Sirius nodded. "Yeah. I'll get some potion and I'll be fine. Here. I'll walk you to the stairs again. Everyone will be at dinner, so it should be okay." He flashed a grin at her as he scooped his books up.

Lily smiled back, not quite hiding the worry in her eyes. She followed suit and they walked into the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Not much to say. Christmas is coming, so stay tuned for Chapter 6: The Greatest Gift of All! Thanks for reading. Please review!


	7. The Greatest Gift of All

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 6—The Greatest Gift of All**

It turned out that Sirius' pain _had_ been caused by Voldemort after all. It seemed to be tied to another muggle murder. Sirius had mixed feelings. On the one hand he felt bad for the muggle and his family, but on the other hand, he couldn't help but feel grateful that the murder was insignificant enough not to send Sirius back to the hospital wing. A sip of his potion every hour ebbed the pain a bit that night, and for the next couple of days, when most of the students were travelling home on the train for the holidays.

The few students who were left at school sat in small groups discussing what they hoped to get for Christmas. Sirius, feeling left out, had wandered off to the library. Perhaps he would find Patrono Sangre this time. It wasn't likely. He'd combed the library before, and had come to the conclusion that if he really wanted to know what it meant, he would either have to find a way into the library's restricted section or he'd have to ask Dumbledore. Sirius didn't relish asking about it. That would bring on difficult questions. He'd never told Dumbledore that Voldemort had tried to kill him, and Sirius realized that now he really didn't want to bring it up. He'd much rather pretend that it had never happened. As to the restricted area, Sirius doubted that he'd ever be able to check in there. What teacher would sign him a permission slip for it? And what could he tell them to convince them to do so? That Voldemort couldn't kill him because of the Patrono Sangre? That Sirius' life may depend on this? Somehow he doubted that anyone other than Dumbledore would believe him. And the idea of telling Dumbledore put him right back where he'd started.

In the library, Sirius sighed and shut his book, _One Hundred Basic Dark Arts Defenses_. It was getting late, and tomorrow was Christmas day, so he was sure to be woken early by the sounds of others opening their gifts. "Yippee," he thought glumly. He placed the book back on its shelf and made his way to the Slytherin common room. The halls were nearly empty, so he didn't have to worry about any prefects stopping him. Soon he came upon the ugly statue that served as the Slytherin guardian. "Cockatrice," Sirius muttered. The statue slid aside at the password. He stepped into the empty common room. The walls were painted in green and silver and were covered in portraits of sour-looking men and women. Sirius suspected that they were pictures of prominent Slytherins from the past. He was just grateful that a portrait of Salazaar wasn't included. It would have been just Sirius' luck if he'd looked like his ancestor. How would he have explained that?

His eyes traveled to the small Christmas tree in the corner of the room. He hoped that Lily, at least, was enjoying her Christmas.

With that thought, Sirius made his way up to the boy's dormitory to get some sleep.

Sirius woke the next morning to the sound of voices. It was the closest thing to cheerful that he'd heard in the Slytherin house and it took him a minute or two to realize why. Then it struck him. It was Christmas day. Sirius rolled over and covered his head with a pillow. Maybe if he ignored them, they'd go away, and he could go back to sleep.

No such luck.

"Do you plan on lying there all day, Black?" Snape asked, grabbing Sirius' pillow and dangling it over him.

Sirius opened his eyes and squinted into the bright sunlight. Snape had pulled back his bed draperies as well, and Sirius could see that they were now the only ones left in the room. The others must have finally gone for breakfast. "That was the plan," Sirius muttered, yanking his pillow out of Snape's hand and snapping the draperies shut.

"Fine," Snape said. "I don't care." Sirius could hear him walk to the door. "When you're done getting up and opening your gifts, maybe you'll be able to join us for dinner," Snape added sarcastically as the door clicked shut behind him.

Sirius scowled. "Smart aleck," he growled, rolling over again. Then he realized what Snape had said. Gifts? He had gifts? He yanked the curtains aside and jumped out of bed.

It had to be some kind of sick joke. He peeked at the foot the bed. He blinked, rubbed his eyes and blinked again. No, he wasn't seeing things. Two small packages sat on the floor at the foot of his bed, wrapped in festive paper.

Sirius picked them up slowly as though he were in a trance. "Where could they have come from?" he wondered as he sat back on his bed.

The first one was crudely wrapped, and, when Sirius finally noticed, clearly labeled:

_To: Sirius_

_From: Hagrid_

There was a hastily scribbled note below the tag that read:

_Thought of you when I saw this. Hope you like it. Happy Christmas._

_Hagrid_

Sirius grinned and suppressed the urge to tear into the paper as his housemates had done. This was his first Christmas gift. He was seriously considering keeping the wrap. He opened the package carefully.

The gift was a slim book called _The Ways of Werewolves_ by Romulus Lycanthro. Now Sirius understood the note. Just last week, while serving yet another detention, he and Hagrid had gone into the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid had begun telling him about some of the creatures in there. When he'd come to werewolves, Sirius had excitedly volunteered some of his own knowledge about the creatures, deeply impressing Hagrid.

Sirius set the book aside, fully intending to read it later, and grabbed his other gift. This one was smaller with nothing on the tag except for: _"To: Sirius"_ written in small, neat letters.

Again, Sirius carefully pulled the paper off, this time to expose a thin, rectangular box. He opened the box, and there lay a beautiful muggle wristwatch. The wristband was green with silver clasps. Slytherin colors. The gift had been well thought out. He pulled it out and looked at it, stunned. Only then did he notice the note at the bottom of the box.

He unfolded it, setting the watch on his bed.

_Sirius,_

_Happy Christmas! I saw this while doing some last minute shopping and thought of our muggle clock lesson. I figured you'd find the gift amusing. Anyway, it didn't sound like you were expecting many other Christmas gifts._

_I hope you like it! See you in a few days!_

_Your friend,_

_Lily_

Sirius looked from the note to the watch and back again. He wasn't sure which meant more to him, the gift itself, or the short note that had accompanied it.

Sirius smiled, slipping the handsome watch on his wrist. He carefully set and wound it as Lily had shown him to do. Then, in good spirits, he sprang up and began dressing. If he hurried perhaps he could still make breakfast. Shipping his shoes on, he quickly combed his longish black hair and checked the mirror to make sure he was presentable

His hair was a bit shaggy, but good enough. There wasn't much he could do about it at the moment. He was growing it long, and it was in that in-between length. He'd always worn it short in the past, but Voldemort's black hair was also always clipped short, and this was another way Sirius could separate himself from his past. Not to mention making himself less recognizable to any prying Death Eaters.

At that thought, the old fear and worry began gnawing at him again. He shook his head to clear those thoughts. No. Today, at least, he wouldn't think about it. It was Christmas, and for once he wanted to enjoy it.

He grabbed his wand and _The Ways of Werewolves_ , and left the dormitory, dashing down the stairs and out of the Slytherin wing.

He raced through the corridors, past caroling ghosts, toward the delicious smell of breakfast, all the while making plans for the day. After breakfast, he'd have to visit Hagrid and thank him for the book. Then maybe he'd hole up in the library and read some of it. And, of course, he had to think of something he could give to Lily. That would be tricky, as he couldn't leave the school to buy anything, but perhaps Hagrid would have an idea. Come to think of it, he'd have to find something for Hagrid as well.

And without realizing it, as he entered the welcoming glow of the Great Hall, Sirius had for once managed to block out the demons of his past, if only for the moment.

Choosing a Christmas gift for Lily was even more difficult than Sirius had anticipated, and it was more than just not being able to go out and buy something. Hagrid had said he would help with that. It was simply that Sirius didn't know what to get her. He'd never given or received a gift in his life before this Christmas. Even his first wand had been less a gift and more a contract binding him to Voldemort.

"I could make some rock cakes for her," suggested Hagrid. "No, wait. I'm missin' the caramel."

"That's okay," Sirius said quickly, before Hagrid could offer to go get some. Sirius had tried those cakes once before. He didn't want Lily to lose a tooth. Anyway, Sirius was no cook, but he wasn't quite sure that caramel was supposed to _be_ in rock cakes in the first place.

Hagrid shrugged and handed Sirius a cup of tea. They sat in Hagrid's small hut discussing gift ideas two days before break ended. If Sirius was going to get Lily anything, it would have to be soon.

"Sirius, why don' you just make her something, like you did fer me?" Hagrid held up the gift Sirius had made for him, a scroll on which were written the recipes of several different potions one could use to treat werewolf bites and other ailments. Sirius figured Hagrid could use that if he ever had trouble in the forest. And it gave Sirius a bit of dark satisfaction to use Voldemort's lessons in advanced potions in such a benign way.

"Somehow I don't think Lily would want medical potion recipes," Sirius remarked, dryly.

"Still don' know where you got some of these," Hagrid mumbled, taking a swig of his tea and setting the list aside. He grinned. "But I'm glad to have it."

Sirius looked out the window. It was getting dark. He sighed. "I'd better get back to the Great Hall. It'll be suppertime soon."

Hagrid laughed. "Yeh wouldn' want to miss that, eh?" He stood and followed Sirius to the door. "Don' you worry about this. She'll like whatever yeh give her just because yeh gave it."

Sirius wasn't so sure, but didn't argue. He just thanked Hagrid for the tea, and made his way back to the school.

As he walked through the entranceway, avoiding the snowballs that Peeves was gleefully throwing indoors, he tried to think about something he could make for her. It wasn't looking good. Most of his skills weren't exactly good for gift giving, unless you had peculiar interests, like Hagrid.

Sirius was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even see the Ravenclaw boy coming until Sirius had crashed into him right outside the Great Hall. Sirius just stumbled back, dropping _The Ways of Werewolves_ , but the other boy was smaller and of a slighter build, so the force of the impact knocked him down.

"Sorry," the pale boy murmured, brushing some light brown hair from his eyes. He stood, picked up Sirius' book and handed it to him, shuddering as he read the title.

Sirius could understand that. Werewolf books weren't exactly your typical pleasure reading. He took the book and opened his mouth to apologize as well, when he suddenly recognized the boy. It was Lupin. "God, he looks terrible," Sirius thought, the shock of seeing the other boy in such bad shape silencing him. He hated to admit it, but it looked like Malfoy was right. Lupin wasn't likely to make second year. He was pale and tired looking, with dark circles under his eyes, and was far gaunter than any eleven-year-old ought to be. He almost looked old. And there were cuts and scratches all over his hands as well as a few on his face.

Sirius was about to ask, "What happened to you?" when Snape and Malfoy appeared in the entranceway to the Great Hall. Sirius groaned inwardly at their terrible timing.

"If it isn't Loony, Loopy Lupin," Malfoy drawled. He stepped forward, Snape following like a dangerous shadow. "I see Black, here, has managed to corner you." He smiled coldly.

Lupin glanced quickly at Sirius, clearly worried. Sirius didn't blame him. Three against one were bad odds even when you were feeling well, which Lupin obviously wasn't. And there was no way for Lupin to know that Sirius wouldn't hurt him. Not Sirius Black, dangerous Slytherin.

"What happened, Black?" Malfoy asked.

There was a moment of silence, broken only by Peeves, softly singing to himself, "Loony, Loopy Lupin!" over and over again. Finally Sirius carefully softly said, "We ran into each other. I was just—"

"About to show him what happens when you mess with a Slytherin?" Snape asked softly.

Sirius was saved from having to answer that by a sharp voice behind them. "What is going on here?"

The boys turned to see McGonagall glaring sternly at them.

"Nothing, professor," Malfoy said smoothly. "Snape and I just came out to see what happened to Black, and we ran into Lupin."

McGonagall glared at him through her spectacles like she didn't believe him, but, as she couldn't prove any wrongdoing, she only sent them to supper with nothing more than a warning not to cause trouble.

"Interfering bat," muttered Malfoy as they walked to the Slytherin table.

"Quite," agreed Snape.

Sirius said nothing, lost in his own unhappy thoughts. Lupin had looked frightened of him out there. And he wasn't the first to look at Sirius like that. He either got looks of fear or hatred. It occurred to him that if it wasn't for Lily and Hagrid, he wouldn't have anyone on his side. Except, perhaps for Dumbledore, but Dumbledore was an odd one, so that hardly counted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed the newest installment of "As Sirius' World Turns" … er… yeah… laugh I'm running on low sleep (just to update for you!) so you have to tolerate my odd humor that comes with it. I do hope you liked the chapter. Thanks for great reviews. Please keep them up! Also, keep your eyes open for Chapter 7: Dark Lessons!


	8. Dark Lessons

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 7—Dark Lessons**

School was soon back in session, and classes were in full swing, although many students were still daydreaming about their vacations. Sirius had managed to get Lily a gift after all. He'd found in his trunk the floo powder he'd taken from the mudbl—no… the muggle born's house, and had sent that to her via a school owl with a note explaining what it was and how to work it, and of course, warning her not to try to use it to travel to or from Hogwarts. He knew it wasn't the best of gifts, but it was the best he could do, given the circumstances. Anyway, maybe she'd be able to set up an outlet to the floo network in her parent's house. Sirius wasn't positive, but he was pretty sure that even if you couldn't _travel_ via floo powder to and from Hogwarts, you could at least use the network for fire communication. So, maybe she could use it to talk with her family from school. He hoped so. It would probably be useless to her otherwise. Lily seemed to like it, though. First day back, she slipped him a thank-you note during transfiguration.

The next few months actually seemed to be going well for Sirius. He still didn't quite fit in at the school, but he'd figured he never would fit in completely. Now, however, he didn't feel quite so isolated. He had Hagrid and Lily as friends, even if he didn't publicly acknowledge them. And in his own house he had Malfoy and Snape. Those two weren't friends exactly, but as time passed, he found himself feeling less tense around them. And when they weren't plotting, he was almost comfortable in their presence. Part of him was relieved to finally fit in somewhere, but a cautious part of him was uneasy about this new alliance. Sirius chose to ignore his cautious side, and enjoy things while they lasted.

The rest of the school year passed rather uneventfully. Voldemort must have stopped killing for awhile, because Sirius' pains stopped. He wasn't sure how to take that. On the one hand, he was happy to avoid the hospital wing, but it also gave him an uneasy feeling. It meant that Voldemort was planning something, and likely it would be something worse than ever. The ministry was no help. Dumbledore had used Sirius' insight to try and warn them of Voldemort's coming attacks, but as much as they trusted Dumbledore, they refused to see Voldemort as any more of a threat than a general psychopath, dangerous to be sure, but nothing a few aurors couldn't deal with. Anyway, he was just killing muggles, and muggle prejudice was still a big problem. Apparently there were quite a few purebloods in the ministry who weren't willing to even discuss the issue.

Brutus Malfoy was one of them. When Sirius learned that Brutus was involved, he understood why nothing was being done. Even if some, like Cornelius Fudge or Barty Crouch could almost be convinced, and others, like Amelia Bones were even starting to worry, Brutus would quell all fears before they reached Millicent Bagnold, the current Minister of Magic.

And it didn't help matters that Dumbledore couldn't explain where his information was coming from. It was a secret that needed to be kept, as that information would have guaranteed Sirius' death, especially in Brutus' hands.

The muggle deaths troubled Sirius, but he couldn't do anything more about it. Anyway, he had his own problems to worry about. Exams were coming up, and he was sure to fail defense against the dark arts and transfiguration if his work didn't show improvement soon.

Then there was Nocturna, who was on his case again about joining the Quidditch team. Malfoy somehow found out and began bothering Sirius about it as well, and _he_ was worse than the professor. When Sirius tried to get out of it by pointing out that he knew nothing about the sport other than how to fly a broom, Malfoy made Flint teach him the basics. When Sirius mentioned that he didn't own a broomstick, and likely wouldn't be buying one any time soon, Malfoy casually announced that his father would supply the whole team with Numbus 1001s the next year. Sirius finally gave in, as he could think of no other way to get out of it except by telling Malfoy flat out, "No," and he didn't want to risk that.

Nocturna was delighted when Sirius told her that he'd decided to be the Slytherin keeper. Malfoy was smugly satisfied. Sirius was worried. It would be his luck he'd have an attack over the Quidditch field and wind up falling off of his broom and killing himself. And with Flint spending a couple of nights a week explaining the rules of the game ("You're supposed the _block_ the quaffle, Black, not invite it _in_!"), and his extra hours studying defense against the dark arts and transfiguration in preparation for the exams, he hardly had time to sleep. To top it off, with exams coming up, many of the teachers were anxious to fly through the remaining material, resulting in extra homework, and even later nights.

History of magic, the one class that Sirius felt could have used a little anxiety to liven things up, however, was still abysmally slow. A week before exams, Sirius found himself sitting in class, his chin propped against his fist, wishing he knew a charm to help keep his eyes open. Not that falling asleep would have made any difference. Professor Binns had his face buried in his notes, which he was reading word for word in a monotone voice. The rest of the class was in a stupor, except for a few whispering Hufflepuffs, and Snape, who was feverishly taking notes.

Sirius didn't even notice he was falling asleep until Snape nudged him roughly, knocking Sirius' chin from his hand, and causing his face to drop into his book with a bang. He sat up quickly to the sound of giggles and rubbed his sore chin. Binns, an old man, whom Sirius assumed had _lived_ through most of the history of magic, kept reading as though nothing had happened. Sirius strongly suspected that the old man was a bit deaf. Sirius glanced at Snape, whose thin lips were twisted into a disgusted scowl. From the corner of his mouth, Sirius hissed, "You couldn't have just said my name? You had to knock me over?"

"Black, shut up and take notes," Snape replied harshly before tuning back into the rise of Grindelwald in 1942.

Sirius sighed and kept ignoring Binns. What did he need with the notes on this lesson? The tale of the dark wizard had been like a bedtime story in the Riddle household. A story about the wonders of power. A warning about failure. A glimpse of near immortality… Sirius absently glanced at Snape's scroll of notes, thinking that he'd love one of Binn's exam essays to be on Grindelwald. He'd pull full marks on it for sure.

His eyes roved absently around the room, finally settling on the whispering Hufflepuffs across the aisle from him. Sirius could hear snatches of what they were saying. It sounded like a load of gossip, but then a small, fat boy said something to draw Sirius' attention.

"…Lupin? That weird Ravenclaw? What about him?" the boy asked.

"Well," whispered a thin girl with black hair and violet eyes. "Marnie says he visits Hagrid at night to take care of illegal creatures. That's where those scratches come from."

"Right," scoffed a black boy. "Just goes slipping out of the castle without getting caught. Where does Marnie get this stuff anyway?" He laughed.

The fat boy joined in.

The girl glared at them both. "Oh, shut up!" She spun around and pretended to take notes. Sirius noticed she was writing with a dry quill.

The fat boy stopped laughing and looked solemn for a moment. "I wonder where Lupin _does_ go. I mean, he's been missing a lot of classes, hasn't he, Mike?"

The black boy nodded. "But nothing to do with Hagrid. Honestly, Peter, Lupin seems _scared_ of him. I don't think he likes the weird animals Hagrid brings around." He nudged the girl. "Are you listening, Cecily?"

"Shove off, Mike," she muttered, still not looking at him.

Mike leaned over to Peter, who seemed worried. "Marnie's her best friend, you know. I shouldn't have laughed. She'll cool off in a bit." He went on. "So, has Lupin gone missing again? I didn't look last class."

Peter shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't look, either, but he's gone a lot. I mean, he was out at least three times in the last four months."

"Yeah," Mike said. "Something like that." He shook his head.

"Wonder where he goes…" Peter said again. He looked like he would have liked to say more, but Mike nudged him then, and motioned to Sirius with his quill. Peter glanced over, and seeing the Slytherin staring at them, went pale and dove into his notes. Obviously the conversation was over.

Sirius sighed and turned away. So, Lupin missed a lot of school… Sirius hadn't really noticed, but he hardly knew the kid, and hadn't thought much of it. Lupin seemed pretty sickly. Probably spent his time in the hospital ward with Madame Pomphrey. He smiled faintly. Well, maybe one of these days he and Lupin could buddy up in there. That was, of course, assuming the other boy wasn't too scared of him. Maybe he'd try talking to Lupin later. They both had defense against the dark arts next period…

The Hufflepuffs were talking again. Sirius could hear Cecily's quiet voice whispering to Peter and Mike. "I heard his family are all dark wizards. He's a Black after all, and he hangs out with Malfoy and Snape. _Everyone_ hates _those_ three; they're such bullies. Marnie says…"

For the first time since school started, Sirius was looking forward to defense against the dark arts. It was one of those classes he'd always looked at as being a necessary evil. He was terrible at it, but he knew he had to learn the stuff, and soon, because if anyone ever found him, he needed to be able to defend himself.

It was funny. The only reason he was passing the class at all was because he knew all of the information about dark creatures and dark magic, but when it came to actually _defending_ , Sirius floundered. He tried to imagine the final exam. _What is a grindylew?_ Easy. _Where would you be most likely to find a hinkypunk?_ No problem. _How would you defend against an_ _Inflammarae spell?_ Douse myself with water? _How would you defend against the Imperius curse?_ Obviously I don't know…

He didn't exactly expect questions about the Unforgivables on the test, but he knew if there were any, he'd never finish it. He'd blank, panic, remember the pain… Sirius shook his head to clear his thoughts. None of that now. He was almost to the classroom and he had to be focusing on the task at hand. How could he approach Lupin without making him think that Sirius was planning on beating him up? And how to do it without Snape noticing? Sirius didn't know why it was suddenly so important. He supposed it was just the thought that _maybe_ he had finally found someone who wound up in the hospital ward as much as he did. It was a sad thing to have in common with someone, but if that's what it took to make another friend in this place, so be it.

He slipped into the classroom and looked around for Lupin, but the Ravenclaws hadn't arrived yet. Sirius let out a small sigh and found his seat. He'd been hoping to catch Lupin before class, but with the Ravenclaws running late, it looked like he'd have to wait until the end of the period.

"Honestly, Black," Snape griped, "sometimes I wonder if you're under a Confundus charm or something. You seem lost enough."

Sirius snapped back to reality. "What?" he asked, baffled. "Were you saying something?" He tried to sound casual, but he didn't think he quite succeeded.

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Yes, as a matter of fact I was." Before Sirius could respond, Snape went on. "Knowing your reputation for not thinking," he said coolly, sending Sirius a significant look, "I was merely reminding you that we need to gather our lacewings tonight for potions, among other ingredients."

"I thought we were supposed to gather them on a full moon," Sirius said, distractedly. He was watching as the Ravenclaws finally filed in.

"Obviously you're neglecting your astronomy homework as well. Otherwise you'd realize that tonight _is_ a full moon."

"Hmmm…" Sirius didn't even bother answering that time. The Ravenclaws had all arrived and Lupin wasn't there.

Snape finally gave up in disgust and lapsed into silence, which was just as well, because at that moment Professor Meadows walked in, carrying his bag. As he stepped up to his desk, the room fell silent. Professor Meadows was probably one of the best professors in the school and, with Nocturna, held the most respect, although McGonagall was gaining in that category as well.

Meadows was a kind-looking older man, but there was something hard in his eyes and firm in his voice that made the students listen. Likely that was a result of the twenty years he spent working for the Ministry of Magic as an auror. He came from a long line of aurors, and even his daughter Dorcas was following in their footsteps. She'd just been accepted that year, which Meadows proudly announced at least once each class.

Now, however, Meadows was writing on the board.

_Defense Against the Dark Arts: What are the dark arts?_

Before he'd even finished writing, hands began flying up all over the room. Snape's flew up a bit too quickly for Sirius' taste. Sirius kept his own down, not wanting to get too involved in this one. He noticed that his heart was beating uncomfortably fast.

Professor Meadows turned and smiled. "What are the dark arts?" he asked in his quiet voice. He continued, ignoring the waving hands. "This is an important question. And it is my belief that this is the _only_ question one needs to be able to answer to satisfy the course requirements for first years. Does anyone remember what those requirements are?"

All hands dropped except for Snape's.

Meadows nodded. "Severus?"

Snape's response sounded as though he were reciting it from Meadows' syllabus. "The course requirements of a first year defense against the dark arts student are as follows: The student will learn what creatures are dark creatures, and how to defend against the weakest, which spells are dark spells and how to defend against the most basic, and the proper procedure for basic defenses. The creatures and spells to be covered are—"

Meadows held up his hand, his smile broadening, "Thank you, Severus."

Aramea Anderson's hand shot into the air. "But Professor Meadows! How can one question deal with all of that?"

Meadows motioned to the board. "This question is the core question in this field. Without it, you _can't_ properly answer any other questions. Does anyone think they know the answer?"

Several hands were back in the air. Again Sirius remained quiet as the professor began calling on students and rejecting their answers. It wasn't until he rejected Snape's textbook quote that Sirius finally raised his hand.

"Sirius?" Meadows called.

Sirius chose his words carefully. "Sir… everyone has named reasons from wild, uncharted magic to specific spells." He took a deep breath and continued. "I don't see how _no one_ could have answered correctly."

"Ah," Meadows sighed, leaning back against his desk. "You make a good point. Many dark spells and examples of dark magic have been named… but no one has hit the core. Let me put it another way. What if I were to tell you that a tickling charm can be dark magic?"

The room exploded into laugher.

Meadows held his hand up to silence them. When they had quieted he said, "But it's true. What if I used a tickling charm on someone I knew had a breathing problem? Say, someone with asthma? And I wouldn't stop, even when that person had an attack?"

"You'd kill him," Sirius whispered.

Meadows nodded, his eyes locked on Sirius'. "Yes, I would. And I would be using dark magic. So what is dark magic?" He was asking the whole class again, but this time only one hand went up.

"Yes, Sirius," Meadows said softly.

"Malicious intent?"

The old auror bowed his head. "Correct. A spell is not dark magic unless it is backed with malicious intent. _That_ is dark magic."

The scratching of quills on parchment could be heard as students quickly started taking notes in case this was on the exam.

"What about Unforgivables?"

The question burst from Sirius' mouth before he'd even realized he'd said it. All eyes turned toward him. Many were accusing stares. Looks that clearly labeled him. A few of the muggleborn just looked confused.

Meadows' look wasn't accusing, only sad, and a bit haunted. "The Unforgivables," he said heavily, "are a rarely used, banned trio of spells. And Sirius is correct. They are dark magic in all cases. Because you cannot murder, torture or control someone without malicious intent. The core is still there, but these spells really _are_ the core."

The class was perfectly silent, all eyes either on Meadows or Sirius, who was absently rubbing his chest. Then a soft whispering began, which Meadows quickly attempted to silence with a stern glare, but not so quickly that Sirius didn't catch a bit of it. Most seemed to be that Sirius' family were dark wizards. One Ravenclaw even went so far as to imply that Sirius had _used_ an Unforgivable on someone. At that Sirius paled and Meadows forcefully ended all conversation, shifting the focus to the exam. His expression remained troubled, though, and his gaze lingered on Sirius more often than usual.

When class ended and the rest of the students were filing out, Meadows motioned Sirius to his desk. "A word please, Sirius."

"I'll be in the common room, Black," Snape commented, leaving.

So much for moral support. Sirius walked up to Meadows' desk. It was bad enough when his classmates didn't trust him, but now if he was going to have Meadows accusing him as well…

But as Sirius stood at the professor's desk, it wasn't accusation that he saw on Meadows' face, only concern. "Sirius, I notice that this is the first time you've actually spoken in my class all year. And it worries me that it was the Unforgivables that drew you out."

Sirius wouldn't make eye contact. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Meadows continued. "Dumbledore mentioned to me that your parents have died. I don't mean to pry, and you needn't answer if you don't want to… but was it Avada Kedavra?"

Sirius' face was a stony mask and his eyes remained focused on a spot just over Meadows' head. He was silent, not trusting himself to speak. Especially not to a former auror.

Meadows looked at him for a moment longer and then cleared his throat. "Well, then… I won't pry. But remember Sirius, I'm here if you need to talk."

Sirius's defiant gaze flickered to Meadows' face. He appeared to mean it, but Sirius couldn't believe that.

"You're free to go."

Sirius nodded and gathering his things, left in silence. He made his way to the Slytherin common room, Meadows' words ringing in his head. _I'm here if you need to talk_. As if Sirius were so stupid that he'd go to an auror. Meadows was new to teaching. He had been on the field when Sirius was under Voldemort's control. God only knew, Meadows may even _realize_ Sirius' connection to dark wizards. There'd be no more talking to him. In fact, Sirius was regretting having spoken at all. He rapidly made his way down the twisting halls and down two sets of stairs until he was in the Slytherin wing. He spat out the password and entered the room, scowling.

Malfoy was the first person Sirius saw on his way into the room. In fact, Sirius nearly ran him over.

"Watch it," Malfoy snapped automatically. For a moment Sirius saw the side of Malfoy that the other houses knew. It wasn't pleasant. Lucius was very like his father.

It took Malfoy a second to register who it was he'd nearly crashed into. When he realized it was Sirius, his whole demeanor changed.

"Black," he said, in a voice like silk. "There you are. Snape said you were talking with Meadows. What did he want?"

It wasn't a casual question, and Sirius knew it. Brutus didn't like having an auror at Hogwarts. And what Brutus didn't like, Lucius didn't like.

"He was butting into my private life," Sirius growled, throwing himself into an empty armchair. The common room was nearly empty, most of the students having gone to eat already. "Where's Snape? Dinner?"

Lucius frowned at the subject being changed. "No. Library, I believe. Meadows was prying? What was he asking?"

Sirius shrugged. "About my family. I brushed him off. Wish he didn't teach all years of that class. I have to deal with him next year, too."

But Malfoy didn't answer. His eyes just narrowed, making him look cold and dangerous.

Sirius got the impression that whatever Malfoy was thinking about wasn't good. "Let's go eat," he said, lightly, before the other boy's thoughts could take root. He may not have trusted Meadows, but he didn't want Brutus to do anything to the man. Sirius knew what Brutus Malfoy was capable of, and no one deserved that. "I'm starved," he continued. "And Snape reminded me last class that we have to collect potions ingredients tonight. So, no sleep for me."

Malfoy nodded and seemed by force of will to make his expression more neutral. "Yes, let's eat. Anyway, if we're not at dinner, Meadows will probably notice and think we're up to something."

Dinner was excellent as always, and Sirius found himself to be in a much better mood after having eaten. Even Malfoy seemed happier. Snape, however, was as sour as ever by the time the houses were following their prefects out of the room, but Sirius assumed it was because he'd missed most of the food by holing himself up in the library.

When making their way back to the common room, the Slytherins were sandwiched in between the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws until they reached the main stairs, so Sirius got a good look at the Ravenclaws beside them. Lupin wasn't there. So he hadn't just missed class. He _had_ to have been in the hospital ward. Sirius smiled darkly. So they were bound to cross paths one of these days. He could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Please stay tuned for Chapter 8: The End of the Beginning. (No, not the end of the story!) See you! Happy reading!


	9. The End of the Beginning

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 8—The End of the Beginning**

The next day at breakfast, Sirius was dead on his feet. It had taken him all night to get the potions ingredients he'd needed. Most of the other students had quickly gathered everything, but Sirius was a perfectionist when it came to potions, so he'd hunted down five patches of dittany before he found one that had satisfied him. And by then most of the lacewings had been gone.

Taking his time had its advantages, though, besides the obvious fact that his potions were flawless. In the end, after the rest of the Slytherins and most of the other students had gone back, Sirius had run into Lily. She was also having trouble finding any lacewings, and was beginning to panic. Potions was her worst subject, and she already was off to a bad start with a wilted batch of dittany. Sirius had collected extra, so he'd given her some. They'd teamed up after that, hunting for lacewings. They'd taken forever and were exhausted, but after three hours of searching, they were done.

Sirius had almost regretted finding the lacewings. He'd been having fun. And he'd learned something interesting. Lupin was a friend of Lily's housemate, Potter, so maybe Lily could find out what was wrong with Lupin. She'd promised at least to ask.

So even though Sirius found himself falling asleep in his bacon that morning, he couldn't help but feel that it had been well worth it.

And it really wouldn't be that bad a day, Sirius thought. He had flying in the morning, followed by potions, charms and transfiguration in the afternoon. Only one bad class, and hopefully Lily would have something to tell him by transfiguration, so he could even handle that.

After breakfast, the day seemed to fly by. He did fine in his earlier classes, and Nocturna even praised his dittany as the only batch she'd seen all day that was worth putting into a potion.

His day was going _so_ well that by the time he got to transfiguration, he was sure Lily would know exactly what was wrong with Lupin.

She didn't. When she met him after class, all she could say was that Potter had told her that Lupin's mum was ill and he had Dumbledore's permission to leave and visit her every month or so.

Sirius couldn't believe it, although he didn't say so. Well, it was possible that he had a sick mother, but clearly _he_ was sick as well. Maybe they had the same thing. Maybe it was genetic. Sirius and Lily were silent as they walked through the empty halls to the common rooms together as was becoming their custom. When they reached the stairs, they said their goodbyes and parted.

Sirius was still lost in his thoughts as he continued alone. Okay, so assuming that Lupin's mum really _was_ sick, and it _was_ genetic, if _she_ was bad enough that Lupin was constantly gone, how bad was _he_? A little worry settled in the pit of Sirius' stomach. Worry and frustration. He was getting sick of all of these "ifs." _If_ Voldemort found him. _If_ he turned out like his father. _If_ Lupin was dying. Sirius had enough problems of his own to worry about. The life or death of some Ravenclaw kid he hardly knew shouldn't have bothered him. But it did. It was like he had a link to this kid. Sirius didn't care about much. But for some odd reason he knew that if Lupin were dying, if he _died_ , Sirius would care.

And that scared him more than any Death Eater. Because Sirius had survived for twelve years by blocking out all emotion. Now his defenses were down, and he no longer felt safe, not only from outside attacks, but also from himself.

* * *

Remus Lupin was back in class three days later, looking worse than ever, but trying to pretend he was fine. Sirius said nothing to him, tempted though he was. He'd decided for his own sanity's sake to put Lupin out of mind. Whatever he was dealing with, he could deal with it himself. It wasn't worth letting his own defenses down for a boy who wouldn't even admit he was sick. Lupin wasn't worth dying for.

And Sirius had more pressing concerns. Exams had finally arrived. He still didn't have a chance in the practical portion of transfiguration, his first exam, but he'd studied so hard in the last two days that he thought just _maybe_ he could pass the exam by acing the written part.

Somehow he made it through the week. There had been some downs, such as McGonagall's exam, or the look on her face during the practical portion when Sirius had tried to turn an egg into a rubber ball, and his rubber ball had hatched. However, he'd had some ups, too. He knew he'd passed potions, charms and flying with no problems. History of magic had two questions on Grindelwald. Even defense against the dark arts had been passable, as it had contained only one question: _What are the dark arts? Write an eight inch essay explaining your answer._ Everyone had given Sirius a significant look when they'd read the test except for Lupin who'd missed that lesson. Sirius had survived though.

The leaving banquet at the finish of the week was fun until the end. Ravenclaw colors now decorated the Great Hall, and after the feast, students had left to finish packing for home, excitedly chattering.

As the Slytherin able was dismissed, Sirius took his time leaving, moving slowly enough that he wouldn't have to walk with them and hear the happy chatter about going home to their families for the summer. He would be spending his summer hiding out at Hogwarts, hoping to be alive when second year began. As his table was the last to leave, no one seemed to notice that Sirius remained behind. He waited until the voices faded before crossing the Great Hall to return to his common room.

Lily was waiting for him just outside the banquet hall door, startling him. She fell into step beside him as he walked to the main stairway. "I noticed you weren't with the rest of the Slytherins when they pushed by us on the stairs, so I doubled back to find you," she said in answer to his questioning glance.

"Why?" he asked.

She let out a small, exasperated sigh. "Why does it always have to be 'why?' Why can't anyone just do something for you and you accept it?"

Sirius shrugged, knowing how moody he must look, and replied simply, "Because no one ever has before."

"Oh," Lily said, clearly at a loss for words. After a few moments she answered his question. "You seemed kind of down during supper. I wondered what was wrong."

"Nothing. I'm just tired. Exams and all."

They turned a corner and were at the main stairwell. They walked up to the landing, and before they parted, Lily turned to him. "Well, I'll see you on the train."

Sirius shook his head. "I don't ride the train. So, it'll be next year. Have a—ah—well... have a good summer." He just stood there, unsure of what to do next, feeling socially inept. Should he shake her hand or something?

Lily saved him from having to decide by throwing her arms around him and giving him a friendly hug. "You, too! I'll miss you!"

Sirius stiffened at the gesture, eyes wide with shock. He couldn't remember when anyone had just hugged him like that. Perhaps no one ever had. His father certainly hadn't.

Lily mustn't have noticed his sudden rigidity, because after the hug, she just grinned, waved, and took the stairs to the Gryffindor wing, leaving Sirius standing stunned on the landing below, staring after her.

Finally, he snapped out of it and turned to go up to his own common room. He made his way through groups of students chattering about going home and seeing their families. And as he changed into his night clothes and drew the bed draperies around him to shut out the cheerful sounds, he couldn't help but think that with the promise of Lily returning at the end of the summer, the next three months didn't seem quite so bad after all.

* * *

The first week of summer vacation was a bit of a shock for Sirius. He hadn't been clearly informed about what would be happening in the next few months. He woke up on the first day to an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. It felt almost like home, being alone in the dormitory, not knowing who was left in the school or what they would make him do. He didn't like this.

He got up slowly and dressed. The rest of the students had left for the train hours ago. He was completely alone.

And for the first time in his life, he realized that he didn't like it. Sure, he'd always been a loner, even when the others were around. But at least there always _had_ been other people nearby. This was the first time he realized that there was more than one level of loneliness. He'd just hit level two.

As he dressed, he wondered who _was_ left at the school. Surely all of the teachers hadn't gone as well. _Someone_ had to be there with him.

He slipped his school robes on, unsure if he was to wear them in the summer or not, and pulled his longish black hair out of his eyes, tying it back. Then he made his way down the stairs from the deserted dormitory to the common room. The whole place seemed gloomy, like he was walking through an empty tomb.

When he entered the common room, it was a moment before he realized that there was someone seated in a chair near the fireplace. Icy fingers of fear settled in his stomach. Everyone should have been gone. Old instincts sent up flares, and Sirius felt himself tensing as the old terror washed over him. The fear struck him so suddenly that he was unable to form a rational thought as he stood in frozen terror. In fact, his mind seemed capable of nothing more than registering a single thought, which kept resounding in his head. "He's found me. He's found me. Oh god, he's found me." A terrifying vision of Voldemort felling him right there in the Slytherin common room flashed through his mind as the figure in the shadows finally moved, seeming to notice his presence at last.

Sirius stood rooted in place as the figure stood and came toward him, stepping into the light. It wasn't Voldemort or one of his Death Eaters.

It was Nocturna. Smiling wryly, she softly commented, "I'd wondered if you'd planned on getting up." The smile faded when she saw how pale he was, saw his wand was drawn and held in a hand that trembled ever so slightly.

He hadn't even realized he'd drawn his wand until one clear thought broke through his fear. She wasn't there to hurt him. He put the wand away in a manner that he hoped appeared casual. But even as he did it, he knew there was nothing casual about defensively drawing a wand on an unarmed teacher.

"Mr. Black, is something wrong?" Nocturna asked softly, her silver eyes appearing interested.

"No. It's nothing. I'm fine," he murmured.

"You look as though you've seen a troll. _And_ you drew a wand on me. You are not fine." She took a step closer, but Sirius could see that she was being wary. Her right hand had slipped into her pocket where he knew she kept her own wand. She took another step, closing the distance between them. "What is the matter?"

He had to think fast. "I had a nightmare last night," he lied. "I dreamt that the muggle killer was down here and had come to start killing wizards. I—I guess I was still half sleeping when I came down here. And then I saw you in the shadows and thought..." He trailed off, hoping she believed his deception. Lies. Lies mixed in with threads of truth. That's all his life was. It didn't seem worth the effort to preserve that. He watched her face, but couldn't look Nocturna in the eyes.

She didn't notice, but seemed to take his story for truth. "That is precisely why I say that you shouldn't read trash before bed." She picked up a discarded _Quibbler_ from the table, and waved it in front of Sirius to demonstrate her point.

It must have been left by another student. Sirius didn't get the paper, but he didn't tell her that. One article she was waving in his face was about the Ministry's plan to _eventually_ investigate the muggle deaths. Sirius couldn't believe his luck. He didn't know how he'd have explained his actions if she hadn't believed his story.

Nocturna slapped the paper down on the mahogany table. "I hope in the future you'll find better reading materials before bed."

"Yes, ma'am."

Her eyes lingered on the article a moment longer and she sniffed distastefully. Sirius wasn't sure if it was the paper, the Ministry, or the muggles who were the recipients of Nocturna's sour expression. Sirius had a funny feeling that it was the muggles. Although Nocturna was a very good professor, she wasn't known for being tolerant. He wasn't sure that even _she_ was above using the word "mudblood" in her home.

Finally, her gaze shifted back to Sirius. "As you are in my house, Mr. Black, the headmaster requested that I explain what is to happen this summer. Most of the professors go home during the holidays, as I'm sure you realize, however Professor Dumbledore and two other professors shall remain here with you this year. You will be expected to follow school rules as you normally would, and keep up with your studies. I don't want to come back and find that you've done anything to shame my house. Is that understood?"

Sirius nodded, so relieved that someone was finally telling him something that he almost missed the import of what she'd said. "Wait!" he burst out suddenly realizing. "You mean you won't be one of the teachers here?"

Nocturna's severe expression softened slightly. "No. I'll be visiting my son this summer. Professors McGonagall and Meadows have agreed to stay."

Sirius' heart sank. Great. He was doomed. He'd have preferred Nocturna. Sure, she was tough and not always fair, but at least she usually left him alone. Between Meadow's prying and McGonagall's insistence that Sirius was constantly slacking off, he'd never know a moment's peace. He'd be a wreck before July was out.

Nocturna was still talking. Something about practicing quidditch over the summer. As if quidditch weren't the least of his problems. Sirius just nodded to let her know he'd heard her. A few more minutes of this and she finally left.

Sirius stood in the middle of the dark gloomy common room. The patter of rain could be heard now, splattering against the windows. Other than that, the room was silent, and the silence settled on Sirius like a blanket, smothering him.

He was alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Short note this time. Thanks for reading. Please review! And Stay tuned for Chapter 9: Grindelwald (Please motivate me to write another chapter by reviewing!)


	10. Grindelwald

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 9—Grindelwald**

Sirius spent his day in the library. He'd hoped that with Madame Pince, the librarian gone on vacation, that he might be able to slip unnoticed into the restricted section to try and learn about Patrono Sangre. What Sirius hadn't counted on was her locking that section up for the summer. He was forced to resign himself to hunting some more through the regular sections of the library, but it was quickly becoming evident that this was futile. He'd searched for an entire year. _Something_ would have come up by now. He was just torturing himself at this point. But he searched anyway. It beat sitting in the Slytherin wing watching the rain fall from the window.

Sirius didn't know how much time had passed. He sat in the midst of several rather large, wobbly piles of old books, when he began to have the eerie feeling that someone was watching him. Setting _Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ aside, he turned slowly and was surprised to see Dumbledore standing behind Sirius, next to an overfull bookshelf in the "Divination" section.

Sirius, in his surprise, leapt to his feet, which wasn't the best of ideas. He hit one of his larger piles in his haste, and it fell with a crash, nearly toppling the rest of the books and raising a cloud of dust.

Sirius' eyes were as wide as saucers. Coughing and choking on the dust, he scrambled to pick the fallen books up, fully expecting Dumbledore to yell at him for wrecking them.

But he didn't.

"Sorry," Sirius mumbled, setting the last book on the shelf, and turning back to the headmaster.

Dumbledore was smiling faintly. Ignoring the fallen books, he commented, "Hard at work, I see."

Sirius simply nodded.

Dumbledore motioned for Sirius to come toward him. "It's nearly suppertime. Why don't you put your studies aside and come eat? I trust there's nothing here so pressing that can't wait until tomorrow?"

"No, sir," Sirius said.

"Good!" Dumbledore beamed, his blue eyes twinkling. "As they're only cooking for six this summer, I'm sure the house elves would have been disappointed to lose one mouth to feed."

"Six?"

"Professors Meadows and McGonagall, Argus Filch, Hagrid, myself, and you."

Sirius brightened a bit. "Nocturna never mentioned Hagrid or Filch." He could have done without Filch, but with Hagrid, the summer could be a bit friendlier.

Dumbledore nodded. "It probably slipped her mind. Would you care to join me? I was about to go to supper, myself. We could walk together."

Sirius glanced back at the messy stacks of books.

The old man seemed to read his mind. "You can put those books away later." He leaned toward Sirius and added in a secretive voice, "Just don't tell Madame Pince. She'd have my head if she knew we'd left a mess in her library!"

Sirius smiled as they left the library.

They walked in silence for a few moments, until Dumbledore cleared his throat and said softly, "Sirius, before Professor Nocturna left for her vacation, she mentioned to me that you'd told her you'd been having nightmares about Voldemort. Is this true?"

Sirius suddenly felt uncomfortable again. His pale blue eyes flicked toward the headmaster. "Yes, sir… well, no, sir. I told her that, but I don't have many nightmares anymore. At least not many that I can't tell from reality."

"I see… Then why did you draw your wand against her this morning?"

The question was simple and casual, yet Sirius felt that there was some importance behind it. He supposed he could simply lie, but something about the old man gave Sirius the impression that very little got by him. With a small sigh, Sirius resigned himself to the truth. "I knew the common room should have been empty. When I saw someone in there, I thought Voldemort had found me…" His voice was very quiet, but it was steady.

A sad, tired look came over Dumbledore's face. "A boy your age should not have to worry about such things. But, that worry is understandable in your case. That is precisely why you've spent one year isolated at Hogwarts. You're safe here. As long as you're here, Voldemort can't touch you."

They were the same words Dumbledore had been saying to him all year, yet this time, something finally seemed to snap inside. All the fear, anger, and frustration broke through the floodgate and threatened to drown him. "You can't _know_ that!" he snapped. "No one believes how powerful he is. No one! Not even you! You think he can't get through stone? You think he's too afraid to _try_? He's going to find me someday!" Sirius stopped for a moment to catch his breath and steady his voice. He turned from Dumbledore, so the headmaster wouldn't see the tears of frustration welling, but remaining unshed in his eyes. In a quieter voice, Sirius finished. "He's going to come here one day and find me. And he'll kill me when he does. I've defied him twice now. He won't let me do it a third time."

Having finally composed himself, he turned back to look at the headmaster who had also stopped walking. "I'm just delaying death by hiding."

Dumbledore listened quietly through Sirius' entire outburst, and remained thoughtfully silent for a few moments afterward as well. There was no sound in the empty hall except for the sound of their breathing. But Sirius fancied that Dumbledore could hear his heart beating as well.

Finally Dumbledore broke the silence, speaking in his usual quiet, calm voice. "Sirius you are quite understandably worried about this situation, but I need you to realize that as long as you are in Hogwarts, you are safe." He held up a silencing hand to stop Sirius from protesting. Dumbledore smiled faintly, but there was no humor in his smile, and his eyes were sad. "These walls are protected by more than mere stone. There are layers of wards placed upon this school that you couldn't even begin to imagine. The school's founders placed a number of them, and each headmaster in the thousand years since has added to that protection. Voldemort cannot breech this school. Furthermore, he would not."

"What's to stop him from trying if he finds out I'm alive? Even if he can't get through the wards, he'll try to find another way." The boy looked up at the silver-haired headmaster. He couldn't quite keep the bitterness or suspicion from his voice and face. It was too hard an expression for a twelve-year-old boy. Too hard and too old.

"Voldemort will not wish to face me," Dumbledore replied softly. "Tom Riddle was many things, but he was never stupid. Right now, he has the upper hand in this matter. The Ministry will not listen to my arguments, and my leaving the school to find him would pose too great a risk, as a source of mine has told me he is no longer at 13 Ebony Lane. I would have to take time to find him, and that would leave Hogwarts open to attack."

"Why would he move?" Sirius asked, surprised.

"I suspect he has noticed the pressure I am putting on the Ministry. It has him worried."

"Malfoy," Sirius whispered, suddenly understanding.

"I'm afraid so. Brutus Malfoy has been one of the more influential ministry members for several years. I don't doubt that he is Voldemort's inside source. What you must understand, Sirius, is that Voldemort has a lot of people where he wants them right now. He has spent a lot of time setting things up. He will not be foolish enough to let it fall apart by coming for you if he discovers you are alive… especially not while I'm here."

Sirius had backed up and now leaned against the cold stone of the wall, facing Dumbledore. A lock of black hair had slipped from his ponytail, and he roughly brushed it away. The cold stone on his back was uncomfortable, but in its own way, it was reassuring. A reminder that he was still alive, against all odds, to be leaning there, feeling it.

Dumbledore quietly stood across the corridor from him, letting his words sink in. His sliver hair glinted in the torchlight, while his light blue eyes were cast into shadow, making it impossible for Sirius to read his expression.

Sirius cleared his throat, finally noting, "You've said that twice, you know. That Voldemort won't come because of you. Why is he so afraid of you?"

"He remembers Grindelwald," the headmaster replied simply.

Sirius scowled. "That doesn't explain anything. I know that old story, too. Grindelwald sought to take over the world. To do that, he needed to become immortal to get the upper hand. Before he could reach his goal, he was crushed by the Ministry. He lost his power and died. I don't see how that story relates to Voldemort having the Ministry eating out of his hand."

"I am surprised," Dumbledore said, not appearing at all surprised. "I would have thought Voldemort would have used that story to gloat. Instead, it seems he told you the version that the Ministry fed the public to stem the panic."

Sirius grew interested despite himself. "He never told me the story. My mother always did. You mean it isn't true?"

"It's a half truth," Dumbledore replied. "And like all half truths, its seed is the truth, but the bloom that we all see exists only for creating more stories."

"What really happened, then?"

Dumbledore sighed. "It's a long story."

Sirius shook his head. "I don't care. I want to know." When the headmaster didn't immediately reply, Sirius added, "Please."

The old man closed his eyes. "Alright. It started over thirty years ago, in 1938. At that time, Grindelwald was a powerful wizard, well known in the wizarding community, if not particularly well-liked. He had connections everywhere: the Ministry, Hogwarts, even in the muggle community. But it wasn't enough for him. Connections can get you far, but he wanted power. He wanted to control everything. I suppose the blame for this could be partially placed on the Ministry as well, although they will never admit to it. Grindelwald was always a man after power, but he would never have gone over the edge if they hadn't forced his hand. The Ministry didn't have much tolerance for anything at the time, and Grindelwald had a situation in his family that required more acceptance than we even have today. Grindelwald's son was a werewolf. We found that out later. Too late, unfortunately. Grindelwald was infuriated by the hate laws that had been created. He was infuriated that muggles were given more respect than werewolves, who were at least still wizards and witches. He tried to work from within, but it was fruitless. And as much as he wanted change, he didn't push it. Then something happened that changed everything."

"Typically on the full moon, Grindelwald's son would be kept safe in his room, but one Halloween night, his son got out. It wasn't until the next morning that Grindelwald discovered the boy's body. Grindelwald looked into it and discovered that his son had been killed by a member of the Ministry. The Ministry claimed it was self defense and dropped charges. Grindelwald was devastated, and looked closer into the autopsy. The time of death was five in the morning on November first. Grindelwald's son would have already returned to his human state by that time, and because of his condition, would have been too weak from the transformation to have attacked anyone. He had been murdered by a member of the Ministry, the very people who are supposed to create laws that _protect_ others. He was killed because of hatred for what he was."

"Grindelwald went mad with rage. He began working logically at first, trying to push for some justice, but the Ministry refused to listen, and he broke with them."

Dumbledore paused there and sighed, remembering the past, most likely. Sirius could relate to that, but he still wanted to know more.

"So that git killed Grindelwald's son, and the Ministry didn't do anything?" He snorted. "Idiots."

Dumbledore smiled sadly and continued. "Perhaps, but I suppose they never realized anyone would dare to stand against them. Especially not someone with as much influence as Grindelwald. He decided that there needed to be a change in the government, and began drawing people to him, pointing out the many times that those in the Ministry had worked for themselves rather than for the people whom they were supposed to serve. He had a strong following by 1942."

"But he was too extreme. He wanted to do away with the Ministry entirely, and have one strong ruler over the whole community. A dictator. Perhaps he was getting his ideas from the muggles. At that time, they had a large war of their own."

"Grindelwald's extreme plans lost him many followers, but he did still have a fair sized group. It was one of them who gave him the idea to strive for immortality. A dictator can be bad enough, but an immortal one is nearly unstoppable."

"He became obsessed with the idea. The philosopher's stone wasn't good enough, because the user became dependant on it, and life-lengthening spells only worked for a short time. He began researching, and testing, and delving into some of the most ancient dark magics to find immortality."

"The ministry was concerned, of course. Grindelwald's tests were killing people, and he was threatening many wizards and witches to join him, giving the ultimatum of either helping him to live forever, or dying along with their families. He was very persuasive. Especially since many of the dark spells he'd picked up in his research were torture spells. Unfortunately, concern didn't stop this. Aurors were sent out against him, many never returned. The wizarding world was on the brink of chaos."

"Then one day, one auror did return with the worst possible news. Grindelwald and his followers had finally succeeded in becoming immortal. They had turned themselves into vampires. Voluntarily giving up their souls for an immortal half-life, they used dark magic in conjunction with feeding on the blood of unicorns."

"If a mortal Grindelwald was fearsome, an immortal one was a nightmare. The Ministry finally took action when it was almost too late. A council was formed to destroy Grindelwald once and for all. I was part of this council. It took a lot of hard work, but we finally came up with a solution late in 1945. We captured a number of lethifolds and in our next battle, we set the lethifolds loose on them. The idea was that since lethifolds are known wizard killers that destroy the bodies of their victims when they feed, they should be able to destroy even self-made vampires. We were right . . . and wrong. The lethifolds, we found, became a part of the vampire, destroying their minds, but leaving their bodies, and turning them into a foul race of creatures that feed on positive emotions, breeding sadness and dispair. Only two escaped this fate. Grindelwald was one. After seeing the fates of his followers, he finally turned himself in, and was slain."

"The other was Tom Riddle."

Sirius' eyes widened. He'd almost forgotten that Voldemort had played a part in this somewhere.

"Tom had begun following Grindelwald as soon as he'd graduated from Hogwarts, but broke with him when they turned to vampirism, and instead came to the Ministry. He was our source of information, claiming that Grindelwald had put him under the Imperius curse. Tom was lying, merely trying to get his mentor out of the way. He turned on us in the end, and I injured him in a duel . . . badly. The Ministry then, against my judgement, left him with the dementors… the creatures of his mentor's own making. They had hoped they would end Tom, but it seems he must have known how to destroy them. The public was, of course, given the story you knew, to stem the fear."

Again Dumbledore fell silent, then said gently, when he noticed Sirius' haunted look, "Perhaps I should not have overwhelmed you with that story just yet, but now you know. A long story to make my point, but as I said, you are safe here. Tom will not want to face me again until he is much stronger. Now, try not to worry. Let's go to supper." He began walking down the hall once again.

Sirius silently followed. They were nearly to the Great Hall before Sirius spoke. "I'd wondered what exactly the dementors were," he said softly. "They feed on people's souls because they gave theirs up, don't they?"

Dumbledore suddenly stopped and turned to look at Sirius. The expression on his face was one of surprise and worry. "Yes," he replied. "But how did you know that?"

"Voldemort has them," Sirius promptly stated. "He doesn't use them much, but they follow him."

"They would," Dumbledore said, more to himself than to Sirius. Worry deepened the lines in his face, making him look more his age. "They lost their identities with their minds and souls, but they'd be drawn to a familiar voice . . . I'd hoped they were gone . . . but if Voldemort has them this could complicate things . . ."

"Sir?" Sirius didn't like the clear look of concern on the headmaster's face. What little ease of mind he'd gained rapidly vanished, and worry began eating at the pit of his stomach once again.

Dumbledore seemed to sense this, and shook out of it, smiling faintly. "No matter. Dementors can be dealt with. Hogwarts is safe." He paused, sniffing the air. Then he motioned toward the Great Hall's huge wooden doors. "Let's go in, shall we? Supper seems to be waiting."

Sirius nodded and followed the headmaster into the room, his head spinning from all of this new information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Thanks for reading. And don't worry… the plot picks up, but I have a lot of time to cover in these chapters. I hope you have enjoyed the story so far. And please keep your eyes open for Chapter 10: "Black" Magic… So, the chapter title's cheesy. Sorry… but great titles are hard to come up with;) So long! And keep reviewing!


	11. "Black" Magic

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 10—"Black" Magic**

The summer passed slowly. With no classes, Sirius really had little to do with his time except try to avoid Filch, McGonagall and Meadows. Dumbledore hadn't been around much since the discussion of Grindelwald. In fact, the only times he saw the headmaster anymore were when Sirius had an attack and would need a potion for the pain. But those instances were few and far between. Even Hagrid was curiously absent much of the time, so Sirius was basically left on his own. He often spent time in the library. He was no longer searching for Patrono Sangre. That clearly was getting him nowhere. Instead he'd begun to look up other books with varying uses. The shelves of divination books had been tempting. Sirius had considered studying that in the hopes of learning how to tell not only when Voldemort was going to strike, but _who_ the victim would be, but after flipping through a few of the books, Sirius discarded that idea. It looked too complicated to learn, and there was no one who taught divination at Hogwarts to help him. Anyway, Sirius wasn't sure he wanted to risk seeing his own future.

So Sirius switched his focus to defense against the dark arts. He at least understood the basics of that. He spent most of June studying the books, learning a lot of history, and a great deal more about the creatures. The chapters on lethifolds were interesting and the werewolf information was fun to read, if not entirely accurate. Sirius had raised and controlled some of Voldemort's own werewolves, so he knew more about them than the average schoolboy, and apparently a bit more than Mr. Scamander. None of what he read really _helped_ him improve his practical skills, though, and that was what he really needed. Once or twice Sirius was tempted to ask Meadows for help, but then he'd remind himself that the old man was once an auror, and that would change his mind.

It was nearly July when Sirius stumbled upon a book on Grindelwald. He was already late for supper, and was gathering books from the table and putting them away. Just as he was finishing up, he knocked a book from the end of the shelf. It was labeled _The Rise and Fall of Grindelwald_. Sirius picked up the slim, dusty book. He hesitated for a moment, halfway through the motions of putting it away, and instead flipped the book open, curious to see what version of the story this book gave. He never made it past the first page.

" _Upon these pages is the sorry history of a wizard that stretched too far for power, and as a result, fell into hell: Baron Grindelwald Black._

* * *

Sirius reread that first sentence twice before he believed what he saw. _Black_. Grindelwald was a _Black_. And Dumbledore had to have known when he'd given Sirius that name.

Frustration welled up inside of him. Dumbledore was the first person Sirius had trusted, and Sirius had been betrayed by him. This was why he didn't trust people. Before he even realized what he was doing, Sirius found himself bursting into the Great Hall, book in hand, anger clearly showing on his face.

Supper was over and Dumbledore was the only one left in there, which was good, because Sirius was sure he'd have made a scene. He froze in front of the headmaster, breathing hard. He hadn't realized he'd been running.

Dumbledore turned and looked at him, smiling faintly. "I was just about to have the house elves deliver your supper to the library," he said. Then he caught a look at Sirius' face. "What's wrong, Sirius?" he asked softly.

Sirius slammed the book down on the table, open to the first page. The sound echoed loudly in the empty room. He pointed at Grindelwald's name. "Why?" he asked, his blue eyes blazing.

Dumbledore didn't have to ask what Sirius meant. It was evident by the way the headmaster thoughtfully furrowed his brow that he understood.

Sirius didn't give him a chance to answer. "Of all the names, why did you pick Black? Do I remind you of him? Is that what you see me becoming? Because if that's the case, why not just leave me to Voldemort?" Sirius fell silent, not to wait for an answer, but because he'd run out of things to say.

"No," Dumbledore said firmly. "I don't see that. What I see is a powerful boy who has been treated unfairly and sent down a dark road, then given a choice to completely turn to dark magic or face the injustice fairly. Yes, in some ways you and Grindelwald started the same, but you both chose different paths. Grindelwald was the darkest mark on a dark family tree. I thought that family could use someone to redeem them before it was too late. That's all. Perhaps it was wrong of me." He spread his hands and bowed his silvery-white head.

Sirius stared uncertainly at the old man. It was hard enough for Sirius to trust; he wasn't sure if it was worth risking betrayal a second time.

And it seemed that Dumbledore sensed this uncertainty in the boy. He leaned forward, looking Sirius straight in the eye and said, "Have I ever given you reason to mistrust me, Sirius?"

Sirius didn't answer, and the headmaster continued. "You have my word that I won't lie to you. I need you to trust. If you can't believe me, then you need to find someone you feel you _can_ believe. But I want you to know that _I_ believe in you. You are not your father. You are not Grindelwald. The paths of our lives are not determined by our families or our friends, but by our choices." He fell silent.

Sirius just nodded and gathered up the book to return to the library.

"Sirius, would you like to dine here with me?"

Sirius shook his head, no.

"Then I'll send it up to your room"

Sirius nodded and hurriedly left. His room would be good. He had a lot to think about, and he needed to be alone.

* * *

Three weeks later, Sirius sat on the landing between the house wings, poking a rather bored looking porcupine with his wand, while trying to look up a spell in the most basic transfiguration book he could find in the library. After the discovery of Grindelwald in the dark arts texts, he'd decided to pick yet another area of study. As a result, he'd been trying to learn the basics of transfiguration for the past few weeks. It seemed that now was as good a time as any to test out his hard work. So, he'd gone to Hagrid's garden looking for some beetles to transfigure into buttons, but all he'd found were some grubs and a porcupine. Turning a porcupine into a pincushion was a more advanced spell, but Sirius decided to try it anyway.

" _Spiko transfigorum_!" he said, swinging his wand down in a graceful arc toward the porcupine.

Nothing.

Sirius glared at it. "You're supposed to become a pincushion, you stupid thing."

The uninterested porcupine tried to waddle away, but before it could reach the stairs, Sirius levitated it and brought it back. He couldn't figure out what he was doing wrong. Maybe he wasn't using enough power. He stood and tried again, this time putting much more force into it.

" _Spiko transfigorum_!" Again he swept his wand in a powerful arc. This time a few small sparks fizzled out and singed its back, angering it. Spines suddenly shot in Sirius' direction, and he only just managed to freeze them midair before he was struck. Thank God he'd aced charms.

As the spines dropped to the floor, Sirius' tempter flared. He pointed his wand.

" _Inflammar—_ "

Then he froze, realizing what he'd almost done. Lighting a live porcupine on fire just because he was angry was definitely malicious intent. Not that this knowledge made him want to do it any less. He hesitated while his more violent instincts tried to overpower his fewer and more recently acquired morals.

The porcupine had begun waddling to the stairs again, when Sirius heard an unexpected voice from behind him.

"And what mischief are we up to now, Mr. Black?"

Sirius spun to see the stern transfiguration professor staring at him through her spectacles.

"Nothing," he muttered.

McGonagall arched one eyebrow and assessed the situation. "So, you were doing nothing with a wand and a porcupine, Mr. Black? Is this a new pet, then?"

Sirius didn't answer, willing her to leave.

It didn't work, not that he'd really expected it to.

She stood silently, waiting for an answer. Finally he sighed, giving in. "I was trying to turn it into a pincushion, okay?" He pulled himself up to his full height, which was impressive for a twelve-year-old.

McGonagall, however, wasn't impressed. "You needn't sound so aggressive, Mr. Black. It was a simple question." She eyed the porcupine as it paced by the top step. "So, you're finally trying? As I've told you before, if you'd actually taken the time to work on your basics, you wouldn't have this problem. No one is above practicing."

Sirius glared. He'd played the good boy all year, even if his reputation seemed to argue that, and he was finally fed up. "Practice! Do you tell that to the muggleborn, too? Do you expect _them_ to have their basics perfect? If not, why do you always pick on me?"

McGonagall had a look in her eye that said just how badly she wished she could take points from his house for his attitude. Her sharp eyes flashed and her lips were pressed together in a thin, angry line. "No, Mr. Black, I do not have the same expectations for them. Their first year schedules include a basic skills class if you must know. But according to Headmaster Dumbledore, you came from a strong wizarding family—"

"—who hated transfiguration, hated Hogwarts, and taught me no basic skills for your class."

At this outburst, McGonagall went dead silent. Sirius suddenly felt deflated, like a balloon, now that he'd lashed out and admitted his failings . . . well, one of them at least.

He was startled when the professor finally did speak in a surprisingly gentle voice. "Your parents haven't taught you anything for my class . . . Why didn't you mention this sooner? We could have put you into the basic skills class."

"I tried," Sirius admitted. "But you wouldn't listen . . . because I'm a pureblood," he added miserably. "It's hard to practice something you don't understand, you know." He met her eyes, unwittingly showing his frustration. Allowing her to glimpse a small chink in his armor. For a moment he wasn't Sirius Black, the troublemaker or Sirius Black the Slytherin. He was just a frustrated student who had been doing everything he could to stay afloat in her class and still had almost failed.

It must have struck some chord with McGonagall, because suddenly she said in a far gentler voice that Sirius hadn't heard since she'd taken him to get his books, "Well, why don't you show me what you're doing, and maybe we can get you caught up before school starts."

Sirius didn't know what to say. After a year of fighting this teacher tooth and nail, he'd almost forgotten how understanding she'd been for that month he'd spent in the Gryffindor wing before his first year.

McGonagall swished her wand gently and flicked it up, saying, " _Windgardium leviosa_." The squirming porcupine floated back to Sirius and dropped in front of him. "Show me," she said.

Sirius sent McGonagall a nervous look. Again, he swung his wand arm down in a powerful arc, and not wanting to fail in front of her, put as much force into it as he could. " _Spiko transfigorum_!"

And once again, he wound up with nothing more than a very angry porcupine.

Sirius flung his wand at the wall in frustration. It hit with a sharp crack and clattered to the floor, rolling away. "I can't _put_ any more power into it than that!" he snapped.

She walked over to his wand and picked it up, fingering it. "Dry up, Mr. Black. You've got it all wrong." She brought him his wand and held it out to him. "This wand is oak, isn't it?"

Sirius nodded, taking it from her. It took a lot of self-control not to just throw it again.

"Well," she said in a dry voice. "It looks like a good wand. You're lucky it's so sturdy, or you likely would have broken just now with that temper of yours. I'm sure it will serve you well in defense against the dark arts, but it isn't the best you could have for transfiguration. It _will_ work, however, if we can get you over your greatest hurdle."

"I told you, I _can't_ practice!" Sirius cut in.

"You may lower your voice, Mr. Black. We've already established that," she said, unruffled. Then her voice took on a businesslike tone. "You mentioned not having enough power. What you fail to realize is that my subject does not rely on power, but rather on method and coercion. It doesn't matter how strong you are if you can _convince_ the object to change." She lifted her wand again. "Watch."

For once, Sirius really focused on her movements as she said firmly, " _Spiko transfigorum_."

She was right. He felt no burst of power, yet with only a swish of the wand and a firm voice, a perfect pincushion seen rested at his feet.

"You try," she said before changing it back.

Sirius tried again to no avail.

"You're still using too much force," she said. "This is transfiguration, not dueling."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, even as he straightened out of a nearly dueling position, but McGonagall cut him short.

"I hear you're very good in potions. Is that right?"  
Sirius nodded.

"Well, then, you should realize that not all magic requires power. If you needed to make a basic antidote, you would find the right ingredients, mix them together in the correct order and heat or cool it in the correct manner. So, if you needed a much stronger antidote, would you go into a dueling stance and shoot _power_ at the cauldron?"

Sirius had been staring at her, trying to puzzle out what she was getting at. When she made that last comment, he snorted. "No, of course not. You'd wind up blowing up the potion before you got anything accomplished. You'd mix it differently."

"Exactly. So, why do you insist on shooting magic at this poor porcupine? All you're going to do is risk blowing it up. Every magic has its own quirks. That is one of the most important basics you need to know. Now, try again. Close your eyes if you have to."

Her voice was getting animated, and Sirius could sense her love for the subject as he watched and listened. He was actually feeling a little bad for her. She didn't seem to understand that he wasn't going to get it. He dutifully closed his eyes at her request. At least she wouldn't be able to say that he didn't try.

"Good," she went on as soon as his eyes were closed. Now, picture the porcupine. Imagine what it would be like to be in his position."

"Give me a break," he thought. "It's a porcupine. How in hades was he supposed to know what a porcupine felt like?" He let out a small snort.

"Laugh all you like, Mr. Black. To gain any skill at all in this subject, you must learn humility. How can you plan on convincing anything to change if you can't come up with a good reason _why_?"

"You didn't make the rest of the class do this," he replied, defensively, briefly opening one eye to look at her.

She sent him a stern look and crossed her arms. "This is how I teach the basic skills class, which you should have been in this year. If you want to pass my second year class, you need to know these skills. They may seem ridiculous, but they're second nature to most of the students in your year. That is why they didn't have to learn it."

"Sorry," he mumbled, vowing to keep his laughter to himself. "Fine," he thought. "I'll think like the stupid beast. Why would a porcupine want to be a pincushion? So it can be stabbed with needles? Not likely. So it can be filled with sawdust and sit in a dusty corner? No. So this stupid Slytherin will stop bugging him and leave him alone? Probably." He sighed. And even as he was about to open his eyes and give up, the thought slipped into his mind. "Safety. Isn't that why it tried to stab me in the first place? Because I kept zapping him. It would be safer. I could change it back. Or at least McGonagall could. It wouldn't hurt that way. If it just agreed. And it would be safe."

The strangest sensation came into Sirius' mind as he thought about it. As though his own mind were touching, probing another. Gently nudging the other down a different path. Safety. That path is safer. Try it. I'll help you. Who would hurt a pincushion? The mind moved, ever so slightly, and as it did, almost without thinking, Sirius lifted his wand and said, " _Spiko transfigorum_."

And the other mind was gone . . . no . . . still there, but different somehow. Sirius opened his eyes. It still looked like a porcupine. He felt like throwing his wand again, but then he noticed something from the corner of his eye. He looked closer this time. That's when he noticed it. The spines weren't spines at all, but several silver needles. It wasn't perfect, but it was a start.

"Did you feel it?"

Sirius had almost forgotten that McGonagall was there. His head snapped up and he met her eyes.

She was smiling. "Did you feel its mind waver? This is a good start. Now that you see what we're doing, would you like to try some more?"

Sirius just nodded, ready to practice all night if he had to.

Two hours later, he had managed a pincushion that still had feet and whiskers, but was a vast improvement over his previous attempts. And it was taking a lot less work.

"Good," McGonagall said. "That's enough for today, I think. You've progressed more quickly than I'd expected."

"So, I'm doing better?"

"Do you really need to ask?" she said, looking over her spectacles. "You know, it's that self-doubt that is your biggest weakness now. Remember, you need to _believe_ you can change a thing before you can convince it to change." She glanced down at a small gold watch attached to a chain on her belt. "You should be getting to bed soon, but practice. I think you'll do fine."

She was just walking away when a thought crossed Sirius' mind. "Professor? One question."

She turned back. "Yes?"

He flushed a little. "I did a lot of reading, trying to figure out where I was going wrong, and I came upon a chapter on animagi. If transfiguration is just convincing a thing to change, and animagi change themselves, then why is that transformation so hard to learn?"

"Think, Mr. Black. What could possibly be more difficult than convincing yourself to change?"

This stopped him for a moment. Then he said hesitantly, "Professor?"

"Yes, Mr. Black?"

"If I need more help getting caught up before school starts, could I—well. . ."

"Of course," she replied softly. "My door is always open. Now, goodnight."

Sirius watched her walk up to the Gryffindor wing. He picked up his malformed pincushion and slowly slipped up to the Slytherin dorms. He'd practice more tomorrow.

* * *

And Sirius did practice. He had little else to do with his time, so he spent most of it catching up on his class work. He'd even gone so far as to get advice from McGonagall now and then. So, by the time summer was ending, Sirius had not only improved to where he should have been, but he'd also surpassed some of the skills of a typical first year student. Now that it was no longer hard work, it was actually starting to get boring.

He'd mentioned that to McGonagall, but she'd just smiled and handed him a different book from her shelf, suggesting he practice from that to "hone his skills." He had dutifully taken the dusty old book to his room and cracked it open, checking out the first few chapters. It had a lot of the things he already knew, but there were a lot of other lessons as well, and a few things that were so archaic that he couldn't make much sense of them. When he looked in the inside flap, there was no date, but written neatly in faded emerald green on the first page was the previous owner's name: Albus W. P. B. Dumbledore. Obviously this must be the old first year text Dumbledore had taught from, before he'd become headmaster.

So, with nothing better to do, he began practicing these new spells. At first they were a little confusing. The introduction rambled on in centuries-old terminology about "inner strength" and "the power of one soul to nullify the choice and force fate on another." After the first paragraph he decided to skip to lesson one.

The first few lessons were spells that he was already familiar with. Sirius smiled at the lesson for _Spiko transfigorum_. At least this book gave the basics on how to block the spines if you were to screw up.

Chapter two was different, though. Most of these were spells he'd never heard of. A few, he even suspected had been pulled from the book's later editions for safety's sake. But most of these new chapters were at least partially doable, and added some challenge to his summer.

By the time school was about to start, and he was to get his own textbooks, he'd become quite good at the first five chapters of Dumbledore's old book. He kind of regretted having to return the book to McGonagall. It must have been obvious, because when he tried to give it back after Hagrid returned from Diagon Alley with Sirius' new texts, she suggested he keep it until he was done with it.

By the day the train was to arrive, Sirius was feeling better about himself than he could ever remember having felt. And now Lily was coming back. He felt for the first time like he could do anything. Maybe even handle playing a team sport. Because the idea of quidditch still worried him. Just because he'd caught himself up in class work didn't mean he wasn't still miles behind everybody in social skills.

And Hagrid was no help. Rather than let Sirius sit in the Great Hall and wait for everyone to arrive, Hagrid had insisted that Sirius come to the train station and meet up with his friends.

Sirius didn't know what friends Hagrid was talking about, but here he was, standing alone on the platform as students slipped past him in droves. Hagrid stood on the other side of the platform, gathering the first years while Sirius tried to be inconspicuous as he looked for Lily. It wasn't until too late that he realized the train had more than one exit, and he'd missed her coming off another. Frustrated, eh turned away from the train and began walking toward Hagrid, even as a wave of Slytherins, the final batch of students, exited the train, Malfoy and Snape among them. Not wanting to become part of the trio again so soon, he slipped behind a partition as the group walked by. It was here, partially obscured by a brick wall, that he overheard some boys talking: Potter and Lupin. Lupin was looking like hell again, with Potter politely ignoring it. Or perhaps they'd already discussed it on the train...

James scowled as Snape, Malfoy and half the Slytherin quidditch team walked by. "There go the Slytherins," he grumbled. "One big pack as usual."

Lupin glanced at the group. "Black's not with them. That's a first," he replied mildly.

James shrugged. "I know. He wasn't last year, either. I hear he gets here early."

Lupin looked thoughtful. "I wonder why."

A small, blonde Hufflepuff who'd been listening in from a nearby bench suddenly piped up. "Maybe he's a dark wizard! You know, I heard that his folks are death eaters or something."

Sirius bristled. Even though it was true, what right did this kid have spreading rumors about him? Sirius was perfectly capable of earning a bad reputation without his help. Sirius glared at him and suddenly recognized the boy as Pettigrew, one of the little rumor mills in History of Magic.

Pettigrew continued, even as Potter and Lupin exchanged somewhat skeptical looks. "Maybe they taught him all sorts of illegal spells and he just apparates here."

Potter shook his head warily. "No, Dumbledore would never let him in then." He looked to Lupin for support.

Lupin was nodding.

"But he let Malfoy in," Pettigrew protested.

"No," Lupin said firmly. "He didn't. That was the last headmaster. And no one knows for sure about Malfoy's father. Anyway, Black could know all the illegal spells in the world, and he still couldn't apparate here, not matter who he is. There are spells protecting Hogwarts, and that's one of them. Professor Binns mentioned it last term. You can't apparate any closer than the forbidden forest."

"You actually _listened_ to him?" Potter asked incredulously.

Lupin smiled. "How do you think I passed his exam?"

Pettigrew, noting he was being shut out, cut in again. "Well, maybe he's from a rich family, and they think he's too good for the train. Maybe they bring him themselves."

"Maybe you could learn to mind your own business," Sirius snapped, stepping from the shadows, his glaring eyes giving him a fierce look. Sirius had the urge to hit Pettigrew.

Potter, ever the hero, stepped in. "Leave him alone, Black. He's not hurting anything."

"Right," Sirius said tightly. "Because I'm not anything, right?" He shifted his glare to Potter.

"That's not what I said," Potter replied, angrily, stepping toward Sirius.

"That's exactly what you said," Sirius growled.

"He has a point," Lupin said softly. Everyone stopped to stare at him. Even Sirius.

"What?" Potter exclaimed. "Remus, he was going to beat this kid up! Whose side are you on?"

Lupin looked uncomfortable, but he stood his ground. "I'm not taking sides, but it's true. Black's name was being slandered."

"It's not slander if it's true," Potter said in a matter-of-fact voice, "and I _know_ most of the Blacks."

Sirius' grim smile was cold enough to freeze. "But do you know me, Potter?"

The messy haired boy was about to argue when Hagrid tramped over, the wide-eyed first years following behind.

"Come on, yeh four. We 'aven't got all day!"

Lupin and Pettigrew quickly gathered their bags. As Potter passed Sirius to get to the carriages parked on the other side of the station, he said softly, "We'll finish this later."

"Count on it," Sirius snapped before following Hagrid and the first years to the boats.

When the other boys were out of earshot, Hagrid said brightly, "See, now, was that so bad? Yeh met some friends already." He beamed.

"Sure," Sirius thought, looking back for a parting glare at Potter. "Like I'd ever want to be friends with them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I hope you liked this chapter. Please review! And stay tuned for Chapter 11: Starting Something. (So the chapter titles are starting to suck... I guess I'd rather the titles suck than the chapters themselves, right?) See you!


	12. Starting Something

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 11—Starting Something**

After the ride across the moat with the first years, Sirius helped Hagrid store the boats. He shook his head as he covered one up. It seemed silly to have these boats for no purpose other than transporting first years one time when the term began. Then again, the carriages and train never seemed to get much use either.

Hagrid glanced at Sirius, "What're yeh shakin' yer head about, now?" He finished tying a knot the size of Sirius' fist.

"Nothing," the boy replied. "It's just funny how we only use the boats once. Why bother?"

The groundskeeper laughed. "Tradition, of course. Firs' years used to come by boat to protect them."

"What?"

"Yeah. A long time ago. There were a lot of dark wizards who were enemies of the founders. They couldn't get _into_ Hogwarts to cause trouble, so they'd attack th' students... easy prey. Firs' years were the best targets, 'cause most didn't know any magic yet, so while the rest took the carriages, the firs' years went with the teachers by boat."

Sirius sent Hagrid a skeptical look. "How do you know that?"

Hagrid laughed. "Same way you found out. I asked. Anyway, Hogwarts has always been big on tradition. That's why we still have th' sorting..."

A thought seemed to strike him suddenly, and he looked sharply at Sirius. "Speaking of th' sorting, yeh shouldn't be here with me. Yeh should be at the feast."

Sirius' heart sank. He didn't feel like dealing with Snape and Malfoy, nor did he want to run into Potter's little group again so soon. "Can't I just finish up here? I'm not hungry. And I don't care about the stupid sorting."

"Of course yeh can't! There's rules here. Yeh know that. Now get back to the castle before we both get into trouble."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut it when he caught Hagrid's glare. "Fine," he snapped, throwing one last cloth over a boat and stomping off. What was Hagrid's problem today, anyway? It was like he'd personally taken Sirius' social life into his own hands. Sirius didn't need any help. He didn't need anyone. He'd survived this long alone. Why did people have to interfere now?

He slipped into the castle entranceway and stopped, listening to the laughter and chattering coming from the Great Hall. The happy sounds hurt him for some reason. If he went in there, he wouldn't be part of it anyway.

His contrary mood won out, and instead of going in, he walked toward the Slytherin common room. Moments later, he stood in front of the ugly guardian of the door. "Cockatrice," he said, and began walking in. Entering would probably have been easier if the statue had moved.

"Ow! Shit! Move, you stupid thing!" he hissed after bashing his knee into its ugly wing. "Cockatrice. You heard me! Cockatrice!" It still didn't budge. He was ready to kick the thing, ignoring the obvious stupidity involved in that plan, when a sound further down the hall caught his attention. People were talking.

Mildly interested, Sirius silently limped closer to the voices. He ducked into the shadowy doorway of an office and listened.

It was Filch and Meadows.

"Two of your packages have arrived, professor. The rest will be a day or so."

"I see," Meadows replied. "I'm going to need some help with unloading those. A lot is heavy and some is just dangerous. It certainly won't be coming by owl."

"How about some students?" Filch suggested in his oily voice. "Especially with the dangerous ones..."

"Argus..." Meadows' voice was still pleasant, but there was a warning tone as well.

Filch began muttering something too quietly for Sirius to hear. The young Slytherin moved forward a bit. His weight shifted to his injured knee, and before he knew it his leg gave out and he came crashing down into the hallway.

Meadows' wand was over him in seconds, blinding him with its light. Sirius attempted to block it and crawl to his feet. This wasn't good. His right knee was throbbing and he was seeing purple spots in front of his eyes.

Filch grabbed Sirius by the collar of his robes and dragged him to his feet. Sirius yelped as his knee gave out again and he dropped. Clearly the last fall had further damaged it.

"Get up!" Filch snapped.

"Argus! Leave him be," Meadows countered, physically coming between the boy and Filch. "That's enough!"

Filch was glaring daggers at Sirius. "He was spying! He should be at the feast. He needs to be taught a lesson."

"That's enough." Meadows' voice had dropped to a soft growl now, but there was enough dangerous warning in it to finally break through and make Filch fall silent. "I'll take care of this," he went on in a gentler voice.

Filch mistakenly assumed that the gentle voice allowed for argument. "He should get detention!" Filch griped.

Meadows turned his back to Filch. Sirius could see his face. It was the first time he'd seen Meadows angry. "Just go. I said I'll deal with him. Tell me when the shipment is ready."

Filch sent Meadows a parting glare and left, muttering under his breath the whole way.

Meadows crouched next to Sirius, finally lowering the light on his wand. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Sirius wouldn't make eye contact. "I'm fine." He tried to stand unsteadily, gingerly putting some weight on the knee. "I wasn't spying," he added. "I heard voices and was curious. You're supposed to all be at the feast." His knee trembled.

Meadows' wand shot out, and Sirius flinched even as he heard the professor say, " _Raparre patella_." Bandages tightly wrapped Sirius' knee, easing the pain and lending support.

"Did you think I'd hurt you?" Meadows asked.

"What?"

"You flinched."

Sirius just shrugged.

"Where are you supposed to be, Sirius?"

Again Sirius shrugged. "The feast, I guess. I wasn't hungry, so I skipped out."

"Ah." Meadows nodded. "I take it you were going to the dormitory then?"

"Yeah," Sirius muttered, "but the stupid password didn't work."

Meadows chuckled. "Of course not. It's set to change at every sorting."

Sirius' eyes snapped up as he made eye contact for the first time. "Figures," he said. "I messed up my knee, walking into that stupid guardian statue."

"I see," Meadows replied, his grey eyes twinkling. "Well, you know, if you'd been where you were supposed to be, it wouldn't have happened."

Sirius groaned. "Okay, I was caught. Am I getting sent to Hagrid's for detention again, or what?"

"No," Meadows replied. "You'll be serving detention with me. I'll contact you when I need you."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest when the rest of the Slytherins appeared at the top of the stairs.

"You'd better go," Meadows commented, "or you'll miss the new password." He smiled at Sirius. "And get your leg looked at. You'll need to be fully fit when I call you for detention." With that, the professor walked off.

* * *

Sirius decided by the end of his first week of class that he should have taken the feast day as a hint of how things were going to be for him. It seemed as though almost nothing went as it was supposed to. He was most worried about transfiguration, a class he now shared with the Ravenclaws. He wasn't really looking forward to that at all. At least with the Gryffindors he had Lily. Now he had to look like a floundering idiot in front of a house that had hated him since Defense Against the Dark Arts the previous year. He almost wished he really _was_ as evil as they said. Then at least he could have done something to wipe those smug looks off their faces without feeling guilty about it.

The class itself wasn't too bad for the first week, though. McGonagall spent a lot of time talking, and then they reviewed. It was almost as boring as Sirius' self-imposed lessons over the summer. Not that he had any delusions that it would stay this easy. He strongly suspected that things would spiral out of control for him as soon as they hit new material. But for now, he was bored. He spent most of the class period trying to make Lupin, who sat directly in front of him, uncomfortable by staring hard at the back of his head. When that didn't work, Sirius resorted to using his wand to create interesting pictures on the back of Lupin's robes.

Potions was a breeze as usual, as was charms. And herbology, which he had with the Hufflepuffs at least looked amusing. Raising mandrakes. He'd never played with those before, and they sounded wicked, making them even more interesting.

It wasn't until Astronomy that things started going rapidly downhill for Sirius. This was another of the subjects that Sirius had never done particularly well in. He had only barely managed average marks last year, and certainly didn't expect anything better now. It was too hard for him to sit still and just stare at stars and planets. Who cared what phase the moon was in? And the constellations they had to memorize... honestly, where did they come up with those? Pegasus? Did anyone really see a horse in that, with or without wings? The most useful thing Sirius could get out of that class were interesting patterns to doodle on the back of Lupin's robes the following day in Transfiguration.

The Gryffindors were in this class. He'd gotten a small wave from Lily on the first day when she caught his eye. He offered a quick smile in return before Snape got through the door. Then he sat in his seat from last year, ready for the boredom to begin. Snape set up his whole collection of weird school stuff in front of him, which just made Sirius roll his eyes. He poked at a funny looking silver thing. "What's that?'

"It's a lunascope. Don't touch it," Snape hissed, swatting Sirius away.

Sirius slipped back in his seat. "Alright, alright. Man, it's not like it was that interesting anyway. It just looked stupid, so I thought I'd ask." Sirius considered trying to doodle one of those things on Lupin's back, but decided against it. It's not like anyone would know what it was anyway. What fun was that?

Sinistra entered just then. He was a short, balding wizard who always seemed to have too much energy and not enough focus. Today was no exception. The man burst into the room with an armful of papers, which Sirius really hoped weren't homework assignments already. The professor dumped the papers onto his desk, zipped about the room, making note of where everyone was sitting, and then sat down on top of his desk to take roll. He almost fell off when several of his loose papers shifted. He glanced down at his seating chart, and back up at the class, confusion furrowing his brow. Sirius wasn't sure how you could get confused taking attendance. Leave it to this guy.

Lily finally raised her hand. "Professor? Is something the matter?"

Sinistra blinked at her. "You aren't Michael Storge."

Lily stared back. "Er—no. I'm Lily Evans, professor..."

Sinistra looked around again. "Is Michael Storge absent, too? That's the tenth student in a row."

Lily glanced at Jenny, who just rolled her eyes and mouthed, "Here we go again," before putting her head on her desk.

Sirius grinned.

Snape raised his hand and said in a dry voice, "Professor, Michael Storge is a Ravenclaw."

Sinistra blinked at Snape. "You aren't Aramea Anderson."

The class began to giggle, as Snape just stared at him, dumbfounded. Sirius sniggered, earning an evil look from Snape.

"Just laugh," Sirius said. "The way things are going, _I'm_ probably going to be Susan White next."

Lily finally stood and walked over to Sinistra's desk, quietly explaining that it was Wednesday and he was looking at the wrong class. This didn't even phase Sinistra. He just smiled blandly at Lily, called her a good little girl, and sent her back to her desk, as he dug out the correct roster.

Sirius buried his face in his hands. "And they wonder why no one gets good grades in this class." He snuck a look at Snape. "Well, except for you, of course, but no one else. I mean, how do you _listen_ to him? It's like Binns only worse. At least Binns knows who he's teaching. He just doesn't _care_ who's listening and who's in a coma. Sinistra honestly doesn't know."

Snape gritted his teeth. "Shut up, Black. No one cares what you think."

Sirius rested his cheek on one hand and grinned. "I never said anyone cared. But you can't deny it's true. Come on. Just try to deny it, _Aramea_." He snickered again.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "I'm going to _kill_ you one day, Black. You know that, right?"

Sirius shrugged, uncaring. "Better you kill me than I die of boredom." He leaned back in his seat, stretching. "Maybe I'll get lucky and a comet will hit me. Sinistra will never see it coming. The tower will be up in flames. All the students running and screaming. And he'll suddenly look up and say—"

"Mr. Black, you go sit with Mr. Potter."

Sirius shook his head. "No, I don't think he'd say that."

Snape picked up Sirius' parchment and threw it at him. "Idiot, that wasn't me. "Huh?" Sirius' eyes blinked open, startled.

Sinistra was looking at him from his desk. "We're pairing up for the year. You go sit with Potter."

Sirius nearly dumped himself from his chair. "I'm pairing with _him_? For the whole _year_? But, _professor_!"

Sinistra kept smiling. "It will be good for you. Some of you seem to be struggling, so if everyone pairs up, you can help each other in class."

"But _him_." Sirius looked at Potter, who had his own face buried in his hands.

Snape smirked. "Well, Black... you were saying that no one can pass this class. And now he's trying to help."

"Oh, shut up," Sirius snapped, grabbing his things and stomping over to Potter's table. When he got there, he pretty much threw everything down, nearly knocking over some ink.

"Watch it," Potter said, snatching his things out of the way.

"You watch it," Sirius retorted, flopping down into the empty chair, and tilting it back on two legs.

"Nice comeback, Black. Did you come up with that all on your own?"

"Like I care what the stupid white knight thinks," Sirius muttered, closing his eyes. "Don't you have some damsels in distress to save?"

Potters eyes flashed, "Don't _you_ have some maiden sacrifices to attend?"

Sirius snorted. "Nope. Sorry. I only attend virgin sacrifices during the full moon." Sirius cracked an eye opened and smirked at Potter. "Hey, now that we're astronomy partners, I guess you can help me keep tabs on the sacrifice schedule, huh?"

"Only if I get to drive a stake through your heart, before you drive one through my grade."

Sirius tipped the chair back further, so his head was almost resting on the empty desk behind him. "That would be silver bullets, Potter. Did you lose track of the conversation? We were talking about a full moon..."

"Is there a problem back there, boys?" Sinistra asked, finally catching on that they were talking.

"Nothing, professor," Potter replied in a semi-angelic voice. "We were just discussing lab work."

Sirius felt like retching. He coughed, allowing it to sound suspiciously like the words, "brown-noser."

It was apparently the last straw for Potter, as Sirius suddenly felt something come in contact with his chair leg, and he found himself tipping too far and crashing to the floor with a bang.

When he woke up, he had to blink a few times to clear his vision. And then a few more to be sure he was seeing correctly. Sinistra and about four students stood over him. He couldn't figure out why he was lying on the floor for a moment. He sat up, feeling his head spin. "Ow," he muttered, rubbing the knot on the back of his head. Sinistra lit his wand and shined it directly into Sirius' eyes, blinding him for the second time that week. The professor shined from eye to eye, then straightened, stating, "No concussion. Grab a new chair, Mr. Black. That one doesn't seem too steady. He absently patted Sirius on the head, right where his bump was, adding to the pain, and then wandered off.

The other students went back to their seats. Lily picked up his parchment and handed it to him, sending him a worried look. He just shrugged it off and pretended he nearly got concussions all the time. Why not? That's how his week was going anyway."

Sirius dragged a chair from the desk behind him, and sat, all four legs on the floor, as far from Potter as he could, while still sharing the same table.

Potter was managing to feign an impressive look of worry and guilt. Sirius was just grateful he wasn't near enough to Snape's desk to grab that lunascope thing or else he'd be getting detention right now for cracking Potter over the head with it.

After class, Sirius scooped up his things, ready for lunch and medicinal potions. Potter grabbed his sleeve, before he could get away.

Sirius turned on him. "What now? A near concussion wasn't good enough? Want to break my arm, too?"

Potter still had that dumb look on his face, his eyebrows shot up so high they were visible over his glasses. "Are you alright?"

Sirius snorted. "Like you care. Don't touch me." He yanked his sleeve out of Potter's grip and stomped off.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you," Potter called after him. Sirius just pretended he couldn't hear the Gryffindor as he caught up with Snape.

The other Slytherin glanced at him, and kept walking.

Sirius scowled. "By the way... nice housemate you are. I saw you back there. You didn't even check to see if I was alive. Evans had to."

Snape sighed. "If only I were so lucky..." he muttered.

Sirius gave up and fell into a sullen silence. Oh yeah... This was going to be a _great_ year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Thanks again for reading! Please review!


	13. Choices

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 12—Choices**

It wasn't until the following week that Meadows finally called Sirius for his detention. Sirius was to meet the professor that evening after supper in the main lobby. He wasn't looking forward to it. He was probably going to get one of those classic jobs that Filch thought up. Like cleaning the awards in the trophy room. Or washing the prefect bathroom with a toothbrush.

He was surprised to find a large number of boxes stacked around when he arrived, with Meadows signing some papers for a tired-looking wizard.

"That should do it," Meadows said, handing the papers back to the man, and watching him walk off. The professor turned just then, his face lighting up at the sight of his student. "Sirius! Perfect timing! Meet your detention." He motioned around at the boxes. "This will probably be the shortest detention in history, but I don't see the point in overdoing it. Anyway, I need your help with this stuff, far more than I think the prefects need their bathroom cleaned. What do you say?"

Sirius just looked around. "What is this stuff?"

Meadows shrugged. "Odds and ends for class. My shipment ran late, because some of the items were ...rare." He shrugged apologetically. "As soon as I get these out of here, we can finally get into some new material in class. And that's where you come in."

"These," he motioned to the boxes on the right, "need to be taken into the classroom. Mostly they're instruments and books, so I need you to be careful. They're very heavy, and some are breakable."

Sirius nodded and pointed at the boxes to their left. "What about those?" he asked.

"I'll take those," Meadows said. "They go in my office, and it would just be awkward having you try to get those in there. You'd have to keep waiting for me to come with my key."

"Oh." Sirius couldn't believe Meadows locked his office. What could honestly be worth stealing? He shrugged, and began grabbing boxes. Meadows wasn't kidding when he said they were heavy. The first one felt like a ton of bricks. It must be the new spell guides he'd mentioned in class. Rather than try to carry it, Sirius just began dragging the box down the hall. He didn't intend to kill himself hauling the stupid thing.

The second box was a lot lighter than the first, and was easier to transport if he ignored the worrisome tinkling it made when he tossed it down. Apparently that had been one of the breakable ones.

It went on this way for half an hour. There really hadn't seemed like this much stuff, but now that he realized how much more work those heavy boxes were to carry, he was starting to wish there were less of them. It was a relief when he finally came to the last one. It sat roughly in the middle of the room. Sirius walked up to it and looked around. Without any other boxes to judge by, he couldn't tell if this was supposed to be one of his or part or the set for the office. And Meadows wasn't around to ask.

Sirius shrugged. He supposed he could take it to the classroom, and if he was wrong, Meadows would make him take it back. It beat getting yelled at when the professor saw him just standing around.

Sirius bent down to pick up the huge crate. As soon as he was within a foot of it, he felt a shock, and withdrew his hand. It was almost as though there were an invisible barrier around this one. And he'd have sworn there was a strange hissing as several shadows shifted across the box. But why were shadows shifting? Sirius bent closer to read the label, when Meadows came out of nowhere.

"Don't touch that!" His voice boomed and echoed in the lobby.

Sirius was sure everyone should have heard him. The boy stepped backward, hands in the air. "I was just trying to figure out where to put it. That's all." His eyes were still glued on the label.

Meadows briskly stepped forward. "Be that as it may, I can't have you handling this one. The headmaster would be furious if I let a student touch it. And it goes in my office anyway."

Sirius gave him a puzzled look.

Meadows' smile was strained. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of this one. I told you this would be a quick detention, right?"

Sirius nodded.

Meadows had his wand out as he approached the box. "Thank you for your help."

Finally, Sirius caught on that he was supposed to leave.

"Sure, whatever." He walked off, leaving the professor to the shadowy crate with the strange label: " _ **Leth 10—XXXXX wiz kill**_."

* * *

A month passed, and Sirius forgot all about the detention and the strange box. Snape, Lucius and Sirius sat in the Slytherin common room, doing their homework. Well, Snape was doing his homework. Lucius was more focused on eyeing a pretty first-year, while Sirius tried to copy what he could of Snape's History of Magic notes. It was a typical night for the trio.

Finally Snape looked up and glared at Sirius, who immediately tried to look busy reading his textbook. Too late, he realized that he was on the copyright page. "Why don't you take your own notes, Black?" Snape said, rolling his parchment up.

Sirius didn't answer. It wasn't as though Snape really expected him to. He looked down at his own hastily scribbled notes. Well, he should have enough for a quiz, anyway. He sighed.

Lucius casually glanced at them. "Snape, just let him copy. He needs the extra time practicing quidditch. We start next week."

Snape scowled and didn't grace that with a response.

Sirius' head snapped up. "Already?"  
Lucius raised his eyebrow in a haughty manner. "Of course. It's already October. And we're going to beat those bloody Ravenclaws this year. My father expects me to graduate with _my_ house having won the cup. I don't want to disappoint him."

Sirius looked away. Brutus Malfoy wasn't someone he felt like discussing.

Luckily, Lucius had other things on his mind. "Black, look over there." He motioned to the blonde first-year he'd been eyeing. "What type of guy does she like?"

Sirius looked at her for a moment. Then he sent a puzzled look at Lucius before eyeing her one more time. "How should I know?"

"She _is_ your cousin, isn't she?"

Again, Sirius sent Lucius a look of confusion. "She is? I've never met her. What's her name?"

This time, Malfoy's voice began sounding irritated, "Narcissa Black. Come on, there aren't many wizarding families with the name 'Black.' You must be related."

"Oh." Sirius swallowed. "She probably _is_ a cousin. But my parents weren't very ... social. I never met many relations."

Lucius snorted. "What good are you then?" he asked, bemused. He stood and sauntered over to the girl. She quickly made room for him to sit at the table next to her. Clearly, _Lucius_ was her type.

Sirius watched them for a few more moments, then looked back at Snape. He was working on his transfiguration homework now. Sirius smiled smugly. He'd gotten that all done in class. It seemed like they were still doing things that were in Dumbledore's old text, so it was all a breeze. McGonagall had actually started giving him extra lessons when he had time, because the class was getting kind of boring. But it _was_ fun knowing that he was so much further than Snape in something.

Without looking up, Snape addressed Sirius. "Black, I know observation isn't one of your strong points. Nor, it appears, is thinking, but I was wondering... have you noticed anything... odd about that Ravenclaw who sits in front of you in Transfiguration?"

"What? Lupin?"

"Yeah, him. Something's up with him."

Sirius shrugged, uncomfortably. He agreed entirely, but he wasn't sure he wanted to sic Snape on the kid's case. "I don't know. Like what?"

Snape looked up. "You really are dumb. Obvious things. He's always absent. He's always sick looking. He comes into class looking like his pet cat attacked him."

"He doesn't have a pet cat," Sirius said automatically. Then he mentally kicked himself. Why did he say that?

"You don't notice a boy in front of you looking like he's going to die, but you know he doesn't have a cat?"

Sirius shrugged. "No. I mean... it's just animals don't really like him." Another mental kick in the rear. Why couldn't he just shut up?

"Yeah," Snape said, thoughtfully. "That's right. They don't."

"But who cares?" Sirius said. "So Lupin's sick and animals don't like him. What does that have to do with anything?"

Snape, glowered into his textbook. "I don't know. But something's weird about him, and I'm going to figure out what it is."

"Why?" Sirius asked. "Why not just leave the kid alone? He's sick."

"Maybe he's contagious. Do you want to catch whatever he has?" Snape wasn't looking at Sirius again, which was starting to tick him off. It wasn't that Sirius wasn't equally interested in knowing what was wrong with Lupin, but Sirius wasn't stupid enough to think they were worrying about it for the same reasons. Snape wanted to use the information against Lupin somehow. He just knew it. And Sirius... why did he want to know? He paused, the thought occurring to him for the first time. Of course, it wasn't because he cared about Lupin. He was just... interesting. And sick... And ... Sirius yanked open a roll of parchment to start on his moon chart for astronomy. He didn't want to think about this...

Lupin defended him. Yeah, that was a decent reason, right? Lupin had defended him against his own friend, Potter, back by the train. Not that Sirius had really wanted him to do so. And this completely ignored the fact that Sirius had been interested in Lupin's welfare since last year...

Sirius shook his head and forced it out of his mind. He wasn't going to admit that he was soft enough to actually _care_ about any of those other stupid jerks who were afraid of him. And if Lupin hung out with Potter, he _had_ to be in on it. So that was that.

He finished his first crescent and began sketching his first quarter, still lost in thought. Hey, at least next class, Potter couldn't complain that Sirius hadn't done his homework...

_"Interesting... he seems worried about the little boy..."_

Sirius looked up at Snape. "I'm not worried."

"Fine," Snape said. "Then shut up."

Sirius glared at him and went back to his moon. The first quarter looked funny. Sirius flipped open his astronomy book in search of a picture. Maybe he needed to add craters.

_"Leave him alone... let him worry if he wants to worry..."_

Sirius glared up at Snape again. "I _said_ I'm not worried... So just shut up, okay?"

This time Snape looked up at him. "Have you finally snapped, Black? I don't care if you are or aren't worried about anything. I just want you to _shut up_ and let me work."

_"I think he hears us..."_

_"Yes..."_

Sirius clenched his quill. Oh God, he was hearing voices now. He buried his face in his hands. This was just what he needed. Insanity to make his year complete.

_"Do you like our kind, boy?"_

"Get out of my head," Sirius muttered.

"Black?"

Sirius ignored Snape. The voices were his first concern.

_"He's afraid of us..."_

_"No, he's afraid of himself..."_

_"He thinks he's crazy... He's holding his head..."_

"Black?"

_"Don't you like snakes, boy?"_

"Snap out of it, you idiot," Snape said, grabbing Sirius by the shoulders and shaking him hard.

Sirius pulled back and stared at the table. " _Shit_ ," he thought. " _Snakes_." He hadn't even thought about anyone having snakes here. "Where is it?" he asked, finally looking around.

Snape let go of his shoulders. "Well, at least you're talking to the rest of us," he said, sneering. "Now, where is what?"

"The snake. There's a snake in here..."

Suddenly Lucius came up behind Sirius. "What's going on here?"

Sirius didn't answer. He didn't make eye contact.

Snape sighed and answered for him. "Black must have seen your runespoor. He's been muttering to himself and then he freaked out about snakes." Snape glanced around. "Ah." He reached down on the floor behind him, and picked up a small orange and black three-headed serpent, dropping it on the table. He looked at Sirius. "Your snake?"  
Lucius laughed, and sat down, stroking the serpent's center head. "You're afraid of a little snake, Black? It doesn't even bite people."

 _"See, we're harmless..."_ It was the center head this time. He could tell, because it suddenly looked at him.

Sirius turned away. He was clutching his quill so tightly that his knuckles were white. He wouldn't let them know he was a parselmouth. He wasn't going to let them find out he was an heir to Slytherin. Because eventually _someone_ was going to trace that back...

"I don't like snakes," he said in a low voice.

_"Poor boy..."_

_"Don't want to talk?"_

_"But we're lonely... there's no one else..."_

That one hurt him. He knew how that felt... No! He couldn't... "Please," Sirius said. "Just take it out of here. I don't like snakes." His hands were shaking. "Just get rid of it!"

Lucius finally scowled and picked it up. "Grow up, Black," he said, carrying it toward the boy's dormitory. "Coward."

Sirius just lowered his head and went back to his chart, to the sounds of students laughing at the scene he'd made.

He needed to take his mind off this. Needed to think of something else.

He drew some craters on his full moon. Maybe he'd sketch a moon onto Lupin's robes next class... A full moon...

* * *

Lupin was out of class again the next day, which just put Sirius into a fouler mood than he was already in. How was he supposed to get Snape's mind off Lupin if the stupid kid had to go and act suspicious again? If Lupin had been there, Sirius would have considered decking him. On the other hand, if Lupin had been there, it wouldn't have been a problem. Sirius spent the class ignoring Snape, and doodling his full moon on the back of Lupin's chair. Actually, he'd been ignoring a fair chunk of the Slytherins since his little freak out the night before. He was considering taking the next rubber snake that was dangled in front of him and choking the stupid git with it.

Then McGonagall caught him adding craters to the moon he'd drawn on the chair and gave him detention for defacing school property. He was going to have to clean all of the desks in her classroom for the next week, not to mention having to listen to her go on about how disappointed she was in him. Like he cared if she was disappointed. He almost landed another detention when he rolled his eyes and began mimicking her when her back was turned. How was he supposed to know that she could see his reflection in the vase on her desk?

School was beginning to stress him out so badly that it was actually a relief when quidditch finally started. At first, Sirius was nervous about it. He didn't know how he was going to do interacting with the rest of his team. He'd practiced over the summer as best he could, and ever since school had begun again, Flint and Malfoy had been making it a point to drill him. So, by the time they had their first game, Sirius thought he was ready. He was either going to make it or he was going to fail spectacularly. He didn't really care which happened as long as he survived.

As it turned out, Sirius was a natural. The keeper position wasn't particularly hard to begin with, and his flying skills were above par. And of course, it didn't hurt that Sirius was a larger boy than the average keeper. It was harder to get around him. John Stebbins, the Hufflepuff chaser, couldn't make a single goal.

Sirius wasn't exactly the team hero. No one ever really cared about the keeper. The heroes were always the chaser and the seeker, but Sirius wasn't looking for fame either. It was plenty that the rest of the Slytherins stopped bothering him and began giving him some respect. He kept the other teams from scoring. That was enough.

Or it would have been if they hadn't had to play the Gryffindors. The Slytherin team had quickly learned that they were better than both the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws. Clearly the rigorous practicing wasn't necessary. So, on practice days, often there was no one there but Sirius and Flint. Even the day before Slytherin had to face Gryffindor for the first time, a team with a reputation of having the best seeker in ten years, no one wanted to practice. Personally, Sirius wasn't a bit surprised that his own team lost. It wasn't _his_ problem. Mark Stanton, the Gryffindor chaser, hadn't gotten one quaffle past him. It was just that Potter, their new seeker, was a better flyer than anyone else, even on his Cleansweep 5, and he'd caught the snitch before Lucius had even seen it.

The next game against the Gryffindors went the same way. What amused Sirius the most was that even so, none of them seemed to think that any practice was needed. He and Flint were still the only ones who showed up. When Flint mentioned practice, the rest of the team just grumbled and pointed out their wins against the other teams.

Sirius had given up pointing out practice as well. The few times he'd done it, several teammates had mentioned how no one could work practice around his detention schedule. As much as he'd like to have argued that, he hadn't been able to. Generally, he made the mistake of saying it just before he actually had to be _at_ his detention.

It seemed McGonagall was keeping an eye open for him to screw up, now. It became almost a weekly ritual that he had to serve detention with her, cleaning desks. And he was too stubborn to just stop doodling. The last detention he had to serve was when she'd caught him actually drawing on _Lupin_. That one had gotten him an even worse punishment. Apparently, she didn't agree with his argument that he wasn't technically defacing school property, unless they were using Lupin for slave labor, which would not only _make_ him school property, but also explain his frequent absences. This time, he not only had to clean the desks, but he had to do it without magic. And McGonagall was staying in there until he was done to check on it.

Sirius sighed, dipping his scrub brush back into the water, and working as quickly as possible. They had another game with Gryffindor this weekend, and he didn't want to be missing too many practices. Flint would kill him. But cleaning this way took forever. He didn't know how muggles did it all. Sirius grew lost in his own thoughts while he scrubbed at a particularly filthy desk. Why was Voldemort trying so hard to kill the muggles? They weren't a threat, were they? Or was it just to make a statement? Not much of a statement, though. Why not go for a wizard? That would at least draw attention. Sirius shook his head. If it were _his_ plan, he'd have killed—

Sirius froze, unable to finish the thought. What was he thinking? The blood drained from his face, as the full realization set in. Why had he thought he was so different than his father? They were the same. Malicious intent... So, Sirius had never actually _killed_ anyone... He closed his eyes, trying to breathe. He hadn't, had he? He couldn't remember. Out of nowhere, he could hear the death curse, see a flash of green light, hear laughter. Was it his mother again? No. A different body. A different woman. Who had killed her? He suddenly didn't want that question answered. He clutched his chest as the familiar pain struck him. Sirius tried to regulate his breathing as he'd done the other times, to ease the pain long enough to tell McGonagall and get to the nurse's office, but this time it wasn't working.

Another sharp stab of pain. If he hadn't known better, he _would_ have thought he was having a heart attack. It was hard for him to breathe, like he couldn't get his lungs to work the way they should. He dropped the scrub brush to the floor.

"Mr. Black, what do you think you're doing?" He could hear McGonagall's stern voice in the background behind the roaring in his ears. She was still angry that he'd disappointed her.

He tried to steady himself by holding onto the desk in front of him, but all he wound up doing was dumping his bucket of water onto the floor. He followed it shortly, taking a chair down with him.

He couldn't focus on anything around him anymore until he felt McGonagall checking his pulse. He took a deep breath, then braced himself. The pain had eased momentarily, but he knew better than to expect it to go away entirely. He wasn't disappointed. Within moments there was another sharp stab of pain in his chest, and this time he cried out. His mind grew fuzzy with the pain. This was bad...

He heard McGonagall tell him to stay still as she ran for help. Then he blacked out.

* * *

Sirius woke up to bright sunlight shining in his eyes. He quickly shut them again, and blocked the glare with his hand when he tried to look around. His hand felt heavy. Everything felt heavy and tired. And his chest still hurt.

Memories of his detention with McGonagall came flooding back, and he sat up with a start, finally realizing that he must be in the hospital wing. Moving quickly wasn't a good idea. He slowly eased himself back down with a moan as his body protested the sudden movement. This didn't feel right. He'd wound up in the hospital wing before, but he'd never ended up feeling this bad. How long had he been out?

He lay there for a few minutes, waiting for Madame Pomphrey's footsteps to approach. She wouldn't leave a patient alone unless she had a reason. It wasn't long before he heard voices approaching. It sounded like an argument. Sirius slowly propped himself to a half-sitting position.

"This is my patient! I don't care who you are, even _you_ aren't going to wake him up until he's good and ready to talk." Madame Pomphrey's hushed voice still echoed across the vaulted ceilings in the wide room. Sirius heard a door open.

Dumbledore didn't sound put off by the head nurse's anger. "I have no intention of waking him, Poppy. But I would like to see how he's doing. If he is awake, there are things we need to discuss."

"I'm up," Sirius tried to say, but his throat was sore and dry, and not much came out. It was enough though.

"Ah," Dumbledore said, brightly, approaching. "Hello, Sirius. Finally awake, I see."

Madame Pomphrey said nothing, but angrily went about checking Sirius' temperature, and giving him medicine. Dumbledore must have been to visit him earlier, Sirius realized as he drank the potion. It was his pain medicine, not the heart potion that Madame Pomphrey made for him. They had already been switched.

"How long was I out?" Sirius asked, alarmed. Something didn't feel right. Again, his voice cracked and this time he found himself coughing.

"Two days." Dumbledore sat down, gently smiling, but there was a strain in his eyes. Something was worrying him. Sirius had learned to read expressions like those by watching his mother.

"Don't talk so much," the nurse said sternly, as Sirius' coughing finally eased. "Your throat is in no shape for that after all of the shouting you've done."

"Shouting?" He looked between the headmaster and the nurse.

Pomphrey tsked a few times and shook her head. "You must have been having some violent dreams. None of the other patients could sleep. That's why you wound up in here."

Sirius looked around, startled, fully taking in his surroundings for the first time. This was certainly the hospital wing, but it was a separate place. The quarantine room, maybe? It was the only individual room he knew of in the wing. Had he been that loud? He went ashen. What had he said in his sleep?

Dumbledore smiled gently, "Sirius, would you mind if I discuss something with you before you go back to sleep?"

Pomphrey opened her mouth to protest, but Sirius jumped in before she could speak. "No, that's fine," he rasped. "I've slept too much anyway. Two days? And I was... screaming?"

The nurse patted him on the shoulder. "No, no. Not so much screaming... Not once we got the pain down. You just cried out in your sleep. Nothing coherent, but enough to wake half of the ward." She smiled dryly. "And if you're worried about your reputation, I don't think anyone saw who made the racket, so you're safe."

Sirius sighed with relief. Screw his reputation. At least he didn't give himself away.

The nurse scooped up his nearly empty potion bottle. "I'll get some fresh medicine." She glared at Dumbledore. "You have five minutes."

As soon as the door was closed behind her, Sirius spoke. "Who was it this time? Some girl? I saw a woman. I've never seen anyone before, but..."

Dumbledore shook his head. "We don't know. This time there wasn't any mark sent up. No bodies found. Nothing."  
"What does that mean, then?"

The old man shrugged. "Maybe nothing. Or maybe... It's possible that you're sensing things earlier than before. Perhaps it hasn't happened yet. Can you describe the woman?"

Sirius thought for a moment. "Not really. My memories are fuzzy. I only remember a woman because..." He flushed. "...Because I thought it was my mother at first. I didn't start hurting until after I saw her."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment. His sharp eyes overshadowed by his low white brows. "I need to talk to the Minister of Magic in person. If they won't answer my owls or take my fire calls seriously, then I'm going to have to go there myself. This is getting out of hand. Not just because of Voldemort, but because I have a student suffering as a result."

Sirius was wide eyed. "You're leaving? But I thought... what about Malfoy? Will they listen?"

"They'll have to. I cannot let Voldemort continue in this way. It's my responsibility. I didn't finish him when I had the chance." The old man stood, a distant look on his face.

Sirius didn't speak, refusing to voice his true concern. Would he be safe with Dumbledore gone? Even for a few days?

The headmaster finally seemed to snap out of his thoughts, slipping his hand into his robes and pulling out a potion bottle. "Here. This should be enough potion to last you the week. I don't know how long I'll be gone, so I hope this will be enough to help the pain until I return..." Worry flickered in his eyes. "Would you rather I wait until you are well? This could take a several days before I get through all of the channels."

"I'm okay," Sirius said, even as his head screamed for Dumbledore to stay. "You need to make them listen. So—so he won't kill that woman."

Dumbledore smiled, then sent Sirius a look that he hadn't seen directed toward him in a long time. "You know, Sirius, I don't know when we last had a student that gave me as much trouble as you do. Yet, at the same time, and against all odds... your heart is in the right place. That, I think, is what will save you in the end."

Sirius didn't know how to respond, so he just watched the old man finally leave. What was that all supposed to mean? He didn't have much time to wonder about it. He could already hear Madame Pomphrey's footsteps just outside the door, and he barely had time to hide his extra potion before she saw. It wasn't worth trying to figure out anyway, Dumbledore always spoke in riddles. You couldn't expect to solve all of them.

* * *

Sirius was forced to spend one more day in the hospital wing before Madame Pomphrey declared him safe to go. So, it was already Friday by the time he made it back to his usual routine. Lucius spoke to him only once to get Sirius to confirm that he still intended to play quidditch tomorrow. Snape muttered something about how unfortunate it was that Sirius hadn't died during his absence. It was nice to know people cared that he was gone. No one really knew where he'd been, and most of his house had gone so far as to assume that he'd landed an impressive detention that had actually pulled him from class. Sirius just let them believe it. He didn't think he'd survive the Slytherin house if they knew that his trips to the hospital wing were actually pretty regular. Weak people didn't last in Slytherin.

Oddly, it wasn't until Astronomy that anyone showed any real interest in his whereabouts. Sirius managed to get into the room before the rest of his housemates, and was immediately pounced by Lily who seemed frantic.

She came up to him wide-eyed and worried, trying not to draw too much attention from the few Gryffindors who were already in class setting up their instruments, but it was clear that she was using up a lot of her reserves to keep from hugging him. "Are you alright? You've been out of class for three days! What happened?" she hissed.

"Nothing."

She didn't buy it. "Don't give me that. I've been hearing rumors all week. The worst said you stole something of Dumbledore's and were sent into the forbidden forest for detention."

Sirius snorted. "Not surprising. I think it was _my_ house that came up with that one. I'm surprised no one has been planning my funeral. Oh wait... that would imply that they _care_."

Lily paled, starting to walk toward their tables. "Don't even say that. I was afraid something bad really _had_ happened to you. Where _were_ you? I don't believe any of that rubbish that you stole something."

"Nowhere." He flinched at Lily's glare. "Really," he went on. "It was the same as always. You know where I am when I miss class."

"But you weren't there!" Lily said. "I thought you might be sick, so I skipped lunch yesterday to visit you in the hospital wing, but you weren't there!"

Sirius froze and looked at her. "You... tried to visit me?"

"Of course I did." They were at her table, and she began setting things up. "I've _seen_ you get sick, it looks _terrible_. I thought you could use some company. I even brought you a chocolate frog..." She trailed off, noticing the look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"I... just didn't expect..." He wouldn't look at her. "No one ever..." He sighed and shook his head. "Never mind. I was in the ward. I was just in the quarantine room at the end." He grinned wryly at her frightened look. "I'm okay. They just stuck me in there because I was causing too much trouble. You shouldn't visit me there, you know. That would be reputation ruining if anyone found out."

Lily glared at him. "I don't care about your stupid reputation."

"I wasn't talking about mine." He left her, and made his way to his own table. Some Slytherins were finally coming in. Sirius hadn't moved particularly quickly in getting to class. There probably had been a fight in the hall slowing them down.

He sat at his table, and took out his moon chart along with the rest of his absent work. Best to get this out of the way before he lost it.

As he was shuffling through his bag, trying to find a quill that wasn't broken, he heard Potter come up and dump his own bag on the table beside him. Sirius snorted a greeting, and kept digging. He really needed to get a separate bag for his ink and quills.

"Where were you, Black?"

Sirius looked up. This was the first time he'd seen Potter actually get angry. It was kind of refreshing.

"What do you care? I'm back."

Potter sat down, but he didn't stop glaring at his class partner. "I care, because when you skip class, I have to cover your work. Sinistra was brutal while you were gone. Do you have any idea how much work we had to do while you were running around causing whatever trouble?"

Sirius let him talk, one eyebrow raising. When Potter finally fell silent, Sirius leaned back in his chair, not too far, and graced him with a response. "Sinistra made you cover for me? I know he can be an idiot, but I thought he'd know better than that. McGonagall or _someone_ should have told him where I was."

Potter looked flustered, which amused the hell out of Sirius. "Well, he didn't _make_ me cover, but if you weren't doing your work, then _someone_ had to."

Sirius motioned toward the pile of parchment in front of him. "It's all there. Every last assignment. Only thing I'm missing is the lab. Couldn't do that one alone. You could have just _asked_ , you know. I'm sure someone would have told you where I was. All the teachers knew."

Potter scowled, but he looked uncertain now. "So, it _was_ detention, then. I should have known. Did you try beating up another student, or did you really steal from the headmaster?"

Sinistra came in just then, and Sirius stood up, gathering his make-up work. He didn't look back at Potter as he finally answered the question. "I was sick, Potter. I spent the last three days in the hospital ward, sucking down potions and doing homework. Trust me, I'd have rather been in class. Even if it meant being stuck with you." He walked off to hand in his papers.

When he came back, Potter was setting up his own instruments, and refusing to look at him. Sirius just shrugged and watched what Potter was doing. They were messing with star charts today, and Sirius had never been very good with them. "Yours doesn't look like mine," he said, shortly.

Potter glanced over. "You're looking at the Southern sky. We finished that last class. It's Northern sky this time. You need the other chart. Here." He handed over a carefully drawn piece of parchment. "I grabbed you one."

Sirius just stared at the parchment in the other boy's hand. "Why?"

"What?" Potter dropped the paper on the table in front of Sirius. "Why what?"

"Why did you grab me a chart?"

Potter just started at him. "You're my class partner, stupid. If you fail, so do I."

"Oh." Sirius finally took the chart and looked it over. At least this should be easier. It was the sky he grew up under.

"Black?"

Sirius glanced up.

"I'm—I didn't know you were sick. I wouldn't have yelled at you."

"I don't care."

"No, really. I—"

"Just shut up about it okay? I don't care what you thought. Do you think I've been going around telling everyone I was sick? Drop it."

Potter ran his hand through his messy black hair. His mouth opened to speak, but at that moment, Sinistra began talking, and the class fell silent.

"As you all know, each lesson begins with a project to see what knowledge you already have." The little man trotted around the room, handing out papers as he spoke. "This lesson will be no different. You all should have a blank star chart of the Northern sky from last class period. I'd like you to take it out."

There was some rustling as papers and quills were pulled out of bags. When the noise ended, Sinistra continued. "On this paper I'm handing out, is a list of different questions that will help you identify the various stars on the chart. Some are legends, some myths, some facts. Then, using the information on the bottom of your charts, you are to calculate the compositions and magnitudes of the twenty brightest stars. You are to work with your partner to finish this by the end of class. Whichever group gets the most right can skip Monday's quiz. Are there any questions?"

Two or three hands went up, but Sinistra didn't look around. He was already distracted by some glittery object on his desk. "None? Good. Begin."

Several students sighed, including Potter.

"You aren't going to be any help on this at all are you, Black?"

Sirius just shrugged. "I hate this class."

Potter nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose. "That's what I thought. So, I'll be doing all the work again."

Sirius eyed his chart. "Tell you what. Let me do the magnitudes and the compositions. You do the others. It isn't quite even, but you won't have to do it all that way."

"No." Potter's voice was flat.

"Why not? You're the one complaining about having to do all the work."

The boy scowled at Sirius. "Think about it. You weren't here when we learned this stuff. How do you expect me to believe you can do it?"

"How do you know if you don't let me try?"

Potter looked down at the chart, then back up at Sirius. "Fine. It's only worth fifteen percent of the grade. I guess you can't screw us up _that_ badly." He laughed a little, smiling for the first time in Sirius' view. "And honestly, it isn't like I understood Sinistra's explanation. No one really did."

"Fine." Sirius grabbed his star chart and pulled out his book. He knew there was a chart in there somewhere about the magnitudes. He remembered it from when he was struggling through his homework without notes. And the compositions would be a breeze. That stuff was just a matter of looking at what the star did and figuring out what would react to make it work. No different than deriving ingredients for a potion.

It took nearly the entire class period, and several searches through both his astronomy book, and to Potter's amusement, his potions book, but finally he was done. Just in case, Sirius even went through his answers again to make sure they were right. Everything seemed okay. He looked back at his partner. "How's it going?"

Potter glanced up. "Okay. I have most of them, I think. Only a few left that I don't get. Like this one: 'Orion's companion constellation.' How vague can you get? And I thought we were identifying stars, not constellations. Why can't he make up his mind?"

Sirius cocked his head to the side. "'Orion's companion constellation?'" he murmured. "Well, there could be two. Let me see your chart."

Potter gave him a funny look and passed it over.

"Hmmm..." Sirius stared at it for a minute, then looked up. "Which one's Orion?"  
"Give me a break. This one." Potter jabbed his finger at a very familiar pattern of stars. "Everyone knows that, Black."

Sirius ignored him. "Well," he said. "You already have this one labeled, so Sinistra must want that one." He pointed to a small pattern of stars. "Canis Major."

"Right," Potter muttered. "You couldn't even pick out Orion. Like I'm going to trust your judgement now."

Sirius scowled. "Listen, if you know what's good for you, write it down. Cripes, it isn't like you actually know the answer anyway."

Potter hesitated and finally wrote it down. "I don't know why I'm doing this," he muttered.

"Because I'm right."

"And how do _I_ know that?"

Sirius glared at him. "Think about it, stupid." He pointed his quill at a star in the constellation. "Do you know the name of the brightest star in this group?"

"No." Potter gave him a defiant look.

Sirius glared back at him. "Well, I do. I may be a flunkie in this class, and that may be the only star that I know, but I'd be willing to call _myself_ an idiot if I couldn't identify it. It's called "Sirius." And it's part of Canis Major. That's what I was named after. Now put it down, and let's get done. I'm going to fail that quiz if we have to take it next class, and if I do, I intend to drag _your_ grade down with me." He growled out that last part, not quite sure why he was even bothering with Potter today. Must be after effects of his medicine.

The look Potter sent him could have withered a mandrake. It just made Sirius smirk. _"Good,"_ he thought. _"Hate me. I'll make you hate me more tomorrow, when we play your team on the pitch. Wouldn't do if we actually got along before then, would it?"_

* * *

That night, Sirius sat up, working on his homework. He hadn't even bothered practicing for quidditch. There was a storm raging outside and even Flint didn't want to go out. Not to mention the fact that Sirius needed to get his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework done. He wanted to take advantage of this rare, detention-free week to get caught up in class. And after this, he had some Transfiguration. McGonagall had pointed out a few interesting spells from the end of Dumbledore's text, and he wanted to work on them.

He didn't even hear Lucius and the rest of the quidditch team come up behind him until one of them flipped his book shut. "What?" Sirius snapped. Lucius sat down, a chilling smile on his face. Sirius didn't like that look. It was a lot like the one he'd had when they'd last discussed Meadows. Sirius felt his anger deflate from him as it was replaced by a cold feeling of dread. "What?"

"You needn't sound so hostile, Black. We're just here to ask your... opinion on something. See, we're all getting a bit tired of losing to the Gryffindors."

"Okay." Where was this going?

Lucius' smile broadened. "And obviously, we need to win the next few games against them, if we intend to take the cup."

Sirius nodded. "Right. So?"

"So, we came up with a way to win. We'd have invited you in the planning, but you seemed rather wrapped up in whatever this is." He motioned disdainfully at Sirius' books. "Anyway, you _are_ still part of the team, whether or not you always _act_ it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius growled, his eyes narrowing.

Lucius' smile didn't falter, but his eyes froze by degrees. "Nothing. It's just you've apparently been buddying up with Potter and a that Gryffindor girl."

Sirius kept his gaze steady. "I'm not buddying up with anyone. I let them talk to me, because I can't afford another detention for awhile. That doesn't mean I like them."

"Oh, good. Then you won't care if the Gryffindors lose by... atypical means."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, finally catching on. "You're going to cheat, you mean."

Lucius laughed shortly. "What a vulgar way to put it. I prefer to call it..." He paused, looking around as if for some inspiration. "Playing... creatively. No one on the team intends to break any rules, if that's what's worrying you. _You_ don't even have to do anything. I just thought you ought to know that this game will be played... differently. That's all."

"We could just practice, you know," Sirius countered. "I know that's a novel idea, but—"

Jackson Partankins scowled. "You want to practice in this?" He motioned to the storm raging outside.

Sirius shifted his gaze to the tall redhead. "No, actually, I was referring to the several practices that involved Flint and me. But do whatever you want. _Play creatively_. I don't care. Just let me get this done."

Lucius grinned and patted him on the back. "Good." He turned to the others. "See, I told you he'd agree. Black knows where his loyalties lie."

"Whatever," Sirius grumbled, flipping his text open to the right page and dipping his quill. He didn't think he wanted to know what Lucius had in mind, but how bad could it be? No one was officially going to break any rules, so it couldn't be too creative. Sirius sighed, shoving those nagging worries out of his mind.

* * *

The next day on the quidditch pitch was rough playing. The storm had abated somewhat. It wasn't raining as badly, and at least there wasn't any more thunder and lightening, but now they had to contend with wind. A small part of Sirius hoped that this would screw up Lucius' plans.

Sirius had to work extra hard at playing keeper this game. With the wind whipping rain into his eyes, it was hard to follow the chaser and the quaffle. Twice, he'd almost let one in, just because he hadn't realized the wind had caused his broom to drift.

And of course, this was a long game. Neither team had scored much, and the snitch was still nowhere in sight. Potter and Malfoy were drifting around high above the pitch. The clouds were low enough that a few times, Sirius had even seen them go over the cloud cover, probably to take a moment to dry off.

Sirius learned not to watch them too much, though. One of the Gryffindor beaters almost nailed him with a bludger the first time he wasn't paying attention. His only saving grace had been the fact that the beater couldn't see any better than he could in the rain.

But for the last minute or so, things had gone quiet. The wind had settled down a bit, and the rain had finally slowed to a mild drizzle. There hadn't even been any balls for him to deal with. Which was odd. Very odd...

For the first time, Sirius focused back on the group of players instead of his own small area of the field. Everyone seemed to be at the Gryffindor side of the pitch. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out what was going on. Looked kind of like the Slytherin beaters had gone out of control, and were shooting bludgers at anyone in a ten-foot radius. The ref looked like she wanted to jump in and stop them, but technically they weren't doing anything wrong. All she could do was get angry and yell at them. Sirius relaxed. If this is what the team had planned, beating up the other team until they hurt too badly to play, he wasn't going to worry. It may have been playing dirty, but all was fair in quidditch and war.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw a flash of red and gold. He looked up above him and spotted Potter chasing the snitch. Where was Lucius? He began looking around. Apparently, he was still at the other end of the pitch, too. That didn't make sense. Malfoy was a genius for tailing the other team's seeker. That was how they'd won so many games against the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws. What was he doing at the wrong end of the pitch?

Suddenly Sirius heard a scream from the stands. His head whipped to the Gryffindor section as several more screams began, and many students began pointing. Sirius followed their gaze... up to Potter.

"What the hell?" Sirius watched as Potter's broom began going out of control. All he could figure was that Potter had been pulled into a rogue air current or something. Not that this knowledge was going to help him any. He was having a hard time staying on his broom, and there were none of his teammates near enough to catch him should he fall.

Then something clicked for Sirius. "Shit!" His eyes strayed toward the Slytherin stands to his right. Lucius had said no one on the team would break any rules. Why had Sirius been so stupid not to realize what he meant? It had to be Snape. No one else was good enough at hexes to mess with Potters broom from that distance.

The rain was making it too hard to look for a specific person, so he stared back up at Potter, who was now barely holding on. Sirius' grip tightened on his own broom handle. Where were the teachers? Why wasn't someone doing something? But of course, he knew. They were all too far away to make a difference, and the ref was finally trying to break up a fight amongst the Slytherins.

Potter's hand slipped. Sirius didn't have time to think. Potter had already dropped past him by the time Sirius had managed to maneuver his own broom into a dive. All he could do was hope that he'd get to Potter before the ground did.

It didn't help that the wind was slowing him down, even in his steep descent, but he was gaining on the other boy. "Come on... Come on!" Sirius chanted through gritted teeth. Finally, only about thirty feet from the ground, Sirius caught up, reached out, and managed to grab Potter's wrist.

"Oh, shit!" Sirius yelped, as he realized Potter's momentum was still pulling them down. "Grab the broom!" he hollered, pulling Potter up with one hand, and trying to pull out of the dive with the other. They began spiraling.

Faintly, Sirius could hear students screaming on both sides of the pitch now. But all he could focus on was pulling up, now that Potter had managed to catch a grip on the handle. He broke the spiral downward, and managed to angle himself toward the stands, not that this was any better. So, they weren't going to crash into the ground. Now they were going to hit the posts. And the added weight was making the broom wobble. He wrenched it to the left, trying to slow down at the same time, and just missing the main support post.

The broom tore through one of the lower Gryffindor banners, further slowing them, and finally bringing them to a speed that Sirius could control. He gradually brought the broom level, and flew them to the edge of the pitch, out of range of Potter's drifting broom as well as any wild bludgers. Potter let go as soon as he there was ground under him, collapsing onto the sand. Sirius couldn't say much. As soon as he got off his broom, he dropped to his knees. His legs were shaking too badly to support him.

Both of the boys sat there for a minute just trying to catch their breath. Both unable to believe that they were still alive.

Potter looked up at him, after finally slowing his breathing to a normal rate. "Thanks," he rasped out.

Sirius didn't get a chance to respond. McGonagall had raced down the stairs from the Gryffindor stands and was now making her way toward them. When she finally got there, she knelt beside them, checking both of the boys out. She looked like she was crying, but Sirius figured it was probably just the rain on her face.

Nocturna was also making her way to them from the Slytherin stands across the field.

"Are you alright, Potter?" McGonagall said, checking over the seeker for broken bones.

Potter just nodded. "Nothing life threatening," he said in a shaky voice. She hugged him.

Then she turned and hugged Sirius as well. He almost pushed her away. What was she doing?

"You stupid, stupid boy!" McGonagall kept saying over and over. Finally she pulled back, and looked at both of them. Sirius noticed that Nocturna had arrived.

"Are they both alive?" she asked, her silver eyes as expressionless as always. But there was a different quality to her voice.

McGonagall stood. "Alive, yes. But I'm taking them to the hospital wing. They look like they're just scratched up, but who knows what other injuries they may have received."

Nocturna nodded. "Good idea. I'm going to have a little talk with the Madame Hooch. Something wasn't right about that broom. The wind wouldn't have taken it that far." Before anyone could respond, Nocturna strode off.

Sirius tried to stand, and was surprised to discover that his legs would support him. Apparently Potter had discovered the same thing, as he was now on his feet as well. McGonagall was right. Somehow they seemed to be okay. Potter had lost his glasses and had a few gashes on his face and hands from the fall, but overall, he seemed fine.

The professor finally regained control of her usual businesslike tone. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, follow me. We need to get you looked at immediately." She began walking toward the nearest exit.

The boys dutifully followed. It took Sirius a moment to realize that Potter was staring at him. "What is it?" he snapped, still shaken from recent events.

"Black?"

Sirius stopped and looked at Potter. "Yeah, what?"

" _You_ caught me?"

Sirius scowled, irritated with the stupid questions. "Yeah, so? Why the surprise? You already thanked me."

Potter blinked at him. "I—didn't realize it was you. I lost my glasses in the fall. I figured..." He trailed off, looking embarassed. "I just thought it was someone from my team. I never thought _you_ —"

Sirius shrugged. "Yeah, well... neither did I."

There was an awkward silence as both boys just stood there staring at each other. Finally Potter broke it. "We'd better get going. McGonagall will kill us if we don't get to the hospital wing."

Sirius nodded, then realized that Potter probably couldn't see him. "Yeah," he said gruffly. "Can you see to walk?"

Potter nodded. "Basic shapes. Just don't let me walk into any posts or anything, and I'll be fine."

"Take the fun out of everything," Sirius said with a chuckle.

Potter paused. "Was that a joke, Black?" he asked, sounding almost amused.

"Why not?" Sirius replied. "It's been a weird day, anyway."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Extra long chapter! Don't expect them all to be this long now! Anyway, as always, thanks for reading. Please humor my muse and review. And stay tuned for Chapter 13: Consequences.  
> Phew! This attempts at weekly updates is getting exhausting!
> 
> Sirius:)


	14. Consequences

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 13—Consequences**

The two boys hurried to catch up with McGonagall who was waiting just inside the lobby for them. Apparently, she wasn't taking any risks by letting them walk very far by themselves. Sirius couldn't help but notice how flustered the professor seemed to be. As though she didn't quite know what to say or do. She glanced back at him several times, causing him to bristle. Finally, the last time, he asked, "What?"

McGonagall smiled shortly. "That was a very good thing you did, Mr. Black. I was just thinking... I intend to tell the headmaster about it as soon as he arrives. It seems to me that you deserve some kind of reward for your actions."

"Why? I just caught him on my broom." Sirius shook his head. "It wasn't anything special. Anyone else would have done it if they were there." He paused thoughtfully. "If I were a Gryffindor, you'd have _expected_ this out of me. It's only a big deal because I'm a Slytherin, and we aren't supposed to do things like that."

McGonagall looked like she wanted to be angry with that response, but Sirius hadn't said it in a defiant manner. He said it as one would argue against getting praise for helping with someone's homework. As though he honestly believed that nearly killing oneself to save a fellow student's life was a normal action for a twelve year old boy. She didn't even try to argue that point.

The hospital wing loomed in the distance, and Sirius sighed. He was out for one day, and already had to go back. Then, another thought occurred to him, and he began to slow his pace, lagging behind. What was Pomphrey going to say?

Potter walked in first, and the head nurse sighed as soon as she saw him. "Another quidditch accident? You play too rough," she scolded, immediately sitting Potter down on a bed and checking for broken bones. She glanced up at McGonagall. "What happened this time?"

Before anyone could respond, she spotted Sirius hiding behind the professor, and her entire demeanor changed. "Sirius Black! What are you doing in my hospital wing wearing a quidditch uniform? I distinctly remember telling you that you weren't to play for at least two weeks. You can't strain yourself that way!" She glowered at him.

Sirius stepped out from behind McGonagall and glared back at her as only someone who knew her could get away with. In the past year and a half, he'd spent enough time in her ward to fall into that category. "I told you I'm fine. I don't hurt at all! And we don't have another keeper to replace me when I'm out."

Pomphrey scowled sternly, seeming to forget all about Potter. "Then the Slytherins could afford to forfeit a game or play without a keeper!" Sirius cringed at her scolding. "That sport is not worth your life. If you keep straining yourself after each of your attacks, you're not going to live to reach twenty!"

Sirius turned red and looked away, refusing to meet Potter's eyes. This was information he didn't need Potter of all people to know.

For once, McGonagall gave him reason to be grateful to her as she quickly took his side. "Poppy, I need to leave soon and discuss the match with Professor Nocturna, but in Mr. Black's defense, I think you ought to know something. Normally I'd agree with you. Especially after Monday's incident, but if Black hadn't been playing today, Potter very well may have died. Potter's broom... got away with him, and Black managed to catch him out of a sixty-foot drop. It's a miracle that the both of them came out of this with nothing more than scratches and bruises. His actions were impressive." She patted Sirius on the shoulder. "Don't be too harsh on the boy."

Pomphrey sighed, grabbing a potion from a shelf and some cotton balls, and began cleaning up Potter's scrapes. She motioned Sirius to the next bed. "Black, sit down. You're going to take me longer."

As Sirius sat, she resumed her conversation with McGonagall. "I'm not going to argue whether or not they were noble actions. I'm just trying to say that this boy has been out of my ward for only one day, and already he's back in for goodness knows how long this time. Especially if he's weakened himself again. Just riding a broom is too much of a strain after his last attack. Catching someone that like that in his condition could have killed him." She sent a fierce look at Sirius. "And don't you give me that look. What if you'd had an attack on the field? _You'd_ have been the one falling sixty feet."

Potter flinched. As she became more irritated, her treatment of his injuries grew harsher. And the nurse was so annoyed that she didn't even seem to notice.

McGonagall sighed and sent Sirius a sympathetic look before finally leaving. Once the head nurse went on warpath, you just didn't argue.

As soon as the door clicked behind her, Pomphrey commented, "A boy your age should not spend so much time in my care."

Sirius managed to stop feeling embarrassed long enough to burst out, "I'm not staying here. I told you I'm fine. I just have a few cuts."

Pomphrey's expression was stone. "I'll treat the cuts, but I'm more concerned about your—"

"I mean it. I'm fine. I swear. Just check me out and let me go. I swear if you do, I'll come back the second it hurts again. I'm sick of being here. And I'm getting behind in classes." He sent her a desperate look, after glancing back at Potter, who impressively appeared to be trying to stay out of it. In fact, the conversation seemed to be making him distinctly uncomfortable.

The nurse followed his gaze and fell silent, finally seeming to realize what his problem was. Her expression would have been funny if the situation weren't so bad. Sirius could already imagine the topic of discussion in the Gryffindor common room tonight. Sirius just leaned back in the bed and closed his eyes. At least he'd stopped her before she'd mentioned his heart. No need to let Potter in on _all_ of his medical details.

The room was quiet for a moment before Pomphrey finally said to Potter with a sigh, "Stay here. I'll get some bandages for that arm."

Sirius cracked his eye open to watch as she went into a supply room.

"What's wrong with your arm?" Sirius muttered, glancing toward Potter.

The Gryffindor didn't look at him. "I think I wrenched it when I caught onto the broom."

"Oh." Sirius paused. "Sorry. But I needed both hands to pull out of the dive..."

Potter finally looked up at Sirius. "Are you crazy, Black? I'm not _blaming_ you. I was just answering your question. I'd rather have a wrenched arm than be dead." Potter shook his head. "I owe you, you know. I mean _really_ owe you. Wizard's debt."

"The hell you do." Sirius' voice was a low growl. His eyes were closed again. "It was the right thing to do. You don't owe me anything. Just forget it happened."

Potter sounded annoyed. "Give me a break. I would have died. Life for a life; that's what my grandfather always said. You saved my life. I have to save yours. Like I said, I owe you."

"Like _I_ said, the hell you do. I don't do debts, especially not that kind. It sounds all nice and noble, but do you have any idea what a wizard's debt really is? It isn't just a 'do unto others thing,' stupid. You're selling yourself to me. It isn't just words, it's really old magic that works like a contract, and if I wanted to cash in on it, you _would_ owe me. One thing. Anything." He thought back for a moment on all of the wizard's debts he'd witnessed. Death Eaters being converted, giving up their lives and their souls, just because they _owed_ Voldemort. Sirius shuddered. When he spoke again, his voice had a haunted quality that Potter had never heard before. "Maybe where you come from, it's just words, but don't _ever_ offer yourself like that. I'm not cashing in on it. You don't owe me anything."

Potter was silent.

Sirius looked up and noticed Potter staring at him again. He was getting sick of this. "What now?"

"You know someone who really did cash in on one of those, don't you?"  
"I don't want to talk about it."

Potter nodded. "Fine. No wizard's debt. But I still owe you... my way."

* * *

Sirius didn't get out of the hospital ward until later that evening, hours after Potter was released. Pomphrey just couldn't accept the fact that maybe Sirius' actions _hadn't_ thrown him onto his deathbed. She kept putting him through test after test. When she ran out of magical tests, she'd even tried a few muggle ones on him. He hadn't really understood why until she'd pointed out that heart disease was really more of a muggle illness, so sometimes muggle tests worked better. Of course, in this case, she still couldn't find anything wrong with him.

It was late when he finally made his way out of Pomphrey's office and began walking to the Slytherin wing. It was slow going. The quidditch match had beat him up worse than he was willing to admit. His muscles ached, and there seemed to be bruises everywhere. It was a relief when he finally made his way into the darkened Slytherin common room. He was ready for bed.

" _Hello, boy."_

Sirius jumped at the voice, looking around for its owner. It took him a moment longer to realize that the owner of the voice was the runespoor on the table. He scowled at it, wishing the stupid thing would leave him alone. He couldn't take these little voices from nowhere.

Sirius glanced around. This time he was lucky. The common room was empty.

"Leave me alone," Sirius hissed, walking up to the table and making a fist at the serpent. He wasn't sure how threatening a fist would be to a snake, but he had to try something, and he knew if he drew his wand, he really _would_ attack the thing. "I don't want to talk to you. Don't you get that?"

Clearly the fist wasn't very threatening. The serpent didn't seem to notice his hostility. _"Don't want to talk again?"_ It was the left head. _"That's fine. It only seemed fair to warn you. One parselmouth to another..."_

Sirius tried to just ignore it, and began walking toward the dormitory. But there had been something in the serpent's voice that worried him... Sirius turned back toward the table. "Warn me about what?"

" _Ah, so he will talk sometimes."_ The center head spoke that time.

The left head stared at the center head for a moment before responding. Sirius noticed that the right head seemed to have fallen asleep. _"Just be careful, Parselmouth. We were put out here to upset you."_

Sirius blinked at it. "Upset me?"

The center head snorted. _"Because you're afraid of snakes."_

"I'm not afraid—I just—I can't let them all see me _talking_ to you! They'd think I'm crazy! And Lucius—"

" _The blonde one?"_ the left head cut in, conversationally.

"Yes. Lucius is the blonde one," Sirius snapped, before realizing he'd raised his voice. "Don't you even know the name of the person who owns you?"

The center head let out a low hiss. _"Of course not. He never talks to us. Would_ you _bother learning the names of people who just use you to scare others?"_

Sirius didn't answer.

" _Anyway, he's the one who left us,"_ the center head continued.

" _He's quite angry, as is the greasy one."_

The center head nodded. _"They're_ all _angry. What did you do?"_ It sounded almost excited.

The left head glared at it again with a look that Sirius could have sworn was disgust, before turning back to the human before him. _"I wouldn't want to be you."_

" _They're going to try something. Be careful."_

The right head finally seemed to wake up. _"I'm trying to sleep,"_ it grumbled, snapping at the center head, which hissed viciously, baring long fangs. So much for them being harmless.

But Sirius wasn't listening anymore. It hadn't really occurred to him to consider the consequences of his actions when he'd saved Potter. He'd thought of it a bit in the hospital wing. He'd expected Lucius and Snape to be angry... but now it sounded like it was his entire team. Sirius groaned. And he had to survive another five and a half years with them?

" _Are you alright, boy?"_

Sirius nodded. "Yeah. Er—thanks... for the warning."

" _Of course. We don't really care much, but you_ are _the only thing around here that listens to us. It would be a shame to let them hurt you irreparably..."_

Sirius sighed and resumed his walk to the dormitory. Everyone was fast asleep when he got upstairs, so he just walked through the darkened room and pulled on his nightrobes. He was about to hop into bed, when the serpent's words returned to him, and on a whim, he checked under the covers.

Two dungbombs under the sheets. A complete search of the bed turned up five more. Sirius just threw them into his dresser drawer for later use. Why let them go to waste? If someone wanted to play dirty with him, Sirius was certainly capable of fighting back.

* * *

It was actually worse than the runespoor had implied. Sirius now spent most of his free time in the library doing homework. He actually seemed to be making some progress in finishing up the make up work from his three days out of class. The down side of working in the library was that he didn't really have much of a choice. If he didn't stay in the library, he wouldn't work at all. It wasn't just the quidditch team that was angry at Sirius. Apparently saving Potter had broken some major taboo for his house, and now he had to be punished for it. He could ignore most of it. The cold anger and hateful stares were nothing new. Everyone else in the school had been doing that to him for awhile. Even the dungbombs and other small pranks were okay. They were easily paid back. But the worst was trying to do his class work. Every time he'd tried to start his homework, something would go wrong. His chair would break. His book would flip shut. His ink would spill. It was as though the entire Slytherin common room had been enchanted to make Sirius' life a living hell.

So, now Sirius was back to spending his time in the library when he wasn't in class.

He'd even taken to having lunch in there. He didn't have enough time between his last class and curfew to do his homework if he didn't. And the strain of trying to keep up with everything this way was wearing on him. Even Potter noticed.

Sirius had started withdrawing back behind his cool mask again. He hardly spoke to anyone, even in Astronomy. Lily had run up to him that Monday after the quidditch match, and he'd just shrugged her attention off. He'd even managed to ignore her hurt expression. When it turned out that he and Potter were the ones to get out of the quiz, partially because Sirius had managed to get almost every question on magnitude and composition right, he'd said nothing. Potter had tried to pull him into a conversation that Sirius just silenced with a glare.

It was as though he'd built up a wall around himself. He didn't want anyone talking to him. He didn't need Potter's attention just because the white knight pitied the poor sick kid, or Lily gushing about some mock-heroic thing he'd done. He didn't need any of them. He just wanted everything to go back to the way it was when people either were afraid of him or ignored him. It had been easier being ignored.

Sirius was eating his supper in the library today. His homework was almost finished, and he only had dessert left on his plate. Best yet, it was late, and most of the students would be in the common rooms by now. He could be invisible in the halls for a few hours at least, until he got caught by at prefect and thrown into detention. He'd wound up in detention a lot more often lately. It was an easy way to get away from his housemates. And it wasn't like Sirius cared if his house lost points.

Sirius stretched and began gathering up his books and papers. Then, after leaving his plate on the table for the house elves to collect later, he walked out of the library and into the hallway. He turned toward the intersection of the houses, and paused there, trying to decide which halls were least likely to have prying prefects in them. It occurred to him that didn't feel like a detention today, really. Probably his best bet would be the hospital wing. If he were to get caught, he could always claim to be making an appointment with Madame Pomphrey. She had him scheduled for regular check-ups now.

He heard Snape talking before he was halfway down the hall. It was almost enough to make him want to turn around and find another place to wander, but curiosity got the better of him, and instead he kept going. As he turned the corner, he saw Snape bullying Lupin.

The Ravenclaw was clutching his books and looking for a way out of the other boy's path. Sirius had noticed that Lupin had been out of school again. This time, it seemed like he'd had a rough time at whatever he'd been doing. His robes hung loosely on him and his entire presence just seemed faded and tired.

Snape obviously didn't care about that, though. Sirius scowled. Had it been anyone else, Sirius would have just turned around and left it, but Lupin looked like hell, and obviously he couldn't defend himself right now. Sirius knew that feeling too well. And anyway, Lupin had defended _him_ against Potter. This wasn't something he could just walk away from.

Snape held one of Lupin's books and was flipping through it casually, while talking in his smooth, oily voice. "Just tell me where you were. Then you'll get it back. Honestly, it isn't like I'm accusing you of being a criminal or anything, but if you're sick, the rest of us have the right to know."

Lupin grew paler, if that were possible.

Snape only smiled a cold, ruthless smile. "You _are_ sick, aren't you? It isn't your mum—hey!"

The book went flying from his hand and sailed down the hall. Snape spun around to see who had intruded, only to notice Sirius slowly walking toward them, book in hand. As soon as Lupin spotted Sirius, he sagged against the wall, looking even worse.

"Funny, Snape," Sirius commented, flipping through the book. "This doesn't look like it's yours." He glanced up. "Unless, of course, you've changed your name to 'Remus John Lupin.'" Sirius' eyebrow raised.

Snape managed to control his temper, but the glare he sent Sirius was poisonous. "What's it to you, Black? Going to save the little Ravenclaw, too? Now all you need to do is find a Hufflepuff, and you can be the hero of the school. Doesn't matter if you're a fake or not, hmmm?"

Sirius snapped the book shut. "Believe it or not, I don't care what you think about me. You can't do anything to me that's worse than what I've already dealt with."

"Do you want to bet?" Snape hissed.

"Try it."

The two Slytherins stared at each other. For once Sirius didn't back down. It was the first time he'd really realized the truth behind what he'd said. What _could_ Snape do that was worse than an unforgivable? What _could_ he do that was worse than trying to kill him? Nothing. So, why run? Why worry about any of them?

Finally Snape backed down. He sent a parting glare at both Lupin and Sirius before stomping off down the hall. Sirius watched him go, knowing that it wasn't over, and not particularly caring. He didn't turn back to Lupin until Snape was out of sight.

"Here." He handed the book back to the pale boy.

Lupin didn't make a move to take it.

"I didn't do anything to it. I've only had it for a minute. Even _I'm_ not that good."

Lupin didn't say anything, but finally stepped forward to take the book back. "Thanks."

Sirius shrugged. "Whatever. Sorry about Snape though. He can be a real git when he wants to be. And that's most of the time..." It was funny how easy it was to talk to this kid. Maybe because they seemed to be in the same position. Sirius didn't feel threatened. "Your name's Lupin, right?" Stupid question, since he'd just read it in the book, but he didn't know how else to make the Ravenclaw say something.

Lupin just nodded. "I... should go..."

Sirius blinked at him, startled by the abruptness. "Yeah... I guess... Hey, you aren't still mad because I drew on you in Transfiguraton are you? Because that was nothing personal..."

Lupin finally looked right up at him in surprise. He seemed even more faded close up like this. "No. I didn't mean that... It's just..." He was looking for an escape route.

Sirius sighed, finally understanding. There was no escaping it apparently. "It's just that I have a reputation for causing trouble and you don't want to mess with me, right?"

Lupin looked worried, but didn't deny it.

It was weird. This was nothing like the boy who'd defended his name at the train station. It was almost like being sick had washed out his personality or something.

"Snape's right, isn't he? You really are sick." Sirius said it before he could stop himself. He grimaced at the stricken look on Lupin's face. How stupid could he be?

"Don't answer that," Sirius said quietly. "It isn't any of my business. Sorry. I'll let you go." He started to walk away, back toward the common rooms. At the corner, a thought struck him, and Sirius turned back to look at Lupin. "Wait. One more thing. You're friends with Potter, right?"

Lupin nodded, tensing again.

"Relax. Just give him a message for me, okay? Tell him to watch his back. Malfoy and Snape are on warpath because of that quidditch match. If they're messing with me, Potter's probably on their list, too."

"Aren't you James' partner in Astronomy?" Lupin asked.

Sirius shrugged, catching his point. "Yeah, but we're not exactly speaking to each other right now." He turned at waved. "Anyway, g'night. See you in Transfiguration tomorrow."

* * *

The next time Sirius actually saw James was in potions class. Not that they'd ever had much contact in there. Their cauldrons were practically next to each other, but Sirius was usually too focused on his work to bother with anyone else in there. Sirius considered relaying his own message, but it didn't seem worth it. He'd wind up having to explain why he'd built up all of his defenses again. And that would just lead to pity talk. No. He'd just have to trust Lupin with the message and hope the Slytherins didn't cause any trouble until then.

It had been okay in potions at first. No one was crazy enough to hex either of them in front of Nocturna. Especially since she'd given them all a twenty-minute scolding about what had happened at quidditch, the first class after the game. Even the Gryffindors had been forced to hear it, just in case they got the stupid idea into their heads to pay back the other team. But Sirius knew better than to expect the peace to last.

The potion they were working on that day was one of the more particular ones they'd had to make. They had been dealing with poisons and antidotes for the past week. Now they were learning to create an antidote by using components of the poison itself. It was a difficult process, separating different aspects of the original poison, and then diluting and re-mixing them to create its opposite. One wrong move and the whole thing would be ruined. They'd been given a long talking to about the dangers of clowning around while working on this chapter.

This work was a challenge, and Sirius was actually enjoying it. He wasn't the most academic student, but when he could see a use for a class, he'd give it his undivided attention. And when he began focusing on a potion, he tended to lose track of the world around him.

That was the only reason someone managed to tamper with his ingredients without him noticing. One minute, his potion was a perfect sizzling ice blue and next it turned a fiery red. Sirius jumped back as the cauldron began boiling over. It wasn't until then that he noticed that someone had put wolfsbane in with his dittany. And he didn't really know what that combination did.

Nocturna turned just in time to see Sirius kill the heat on his cauldron and grab his potions book, flipping through it for an idea of what he'd just made. Considering the danger of the ingredients they were using, most professors would immediately have come to clean the mess. Nocturna just called across the room, "Are we alright, Mr. Black?"

Sirius nodded, flipping the page. The stuff was still boiling out, even with the heat off. He stepped up onto his stool.

"What happened?" She was finally making her way toward him, even as several students around Sirius also began getting out of the way of his potion. If he wasn't touching it, they certainly weren't going to. The potion burped out a huge bubble, splattering Black anyway. He swore softly under his breath.

Nocturna raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Sirius tried to wipe some of the slop from his face, ignoring her expression. He didn't know what to say. Someone had messed with his ingredients, but what difference did that make now? It was too late to whine about it. He opened his mouth to tell her he'd mixed something wrong, when to his surprise, Potter stepped in.

"It isn't Black's fault. I bumped him and I think I made him add too much of something."

Black turned to stare at Potter. What the hell was he talking about?

Nocturna sent each boy a hard look, clearly unconvinced. Then she picked up Sirius' dittany jar and sighed. "Fine. You can both stay after class to clean it up then. Do a good job, and I won't take points from your house, Potter." She began to walk away just as the bell rang. "And Mr. Black," she said over her shoulder. "The page you're looking for is in the first lesson of chapter twelve." She grabbed a towel from a nearby shelf and tossed it at him. "Do be more careful."

Sirius caught the towel and cleaned himself off. Then, he began flipping ahead, as the class hurried out of the room for lunch. Nocturna began packing her own bag as well. He found the page he was looking for just as she was getting ready to leave. He glanced up at her, after reading the chart.

She nodded toward him. "You're all set then, Mr. Black? Ingredients are behind you in the cupboard. Clean the cauldron when you're done." With that she left the room.

Potter was already trying a few quick cleaning spells, but all he'd managed to do was cool the liquid into a slimy red gel. He sighed, grabbing another rag from the shelf, and began scrubbing at the floor. At least the slimy stuff came up kind of easily.

Sirius didn't notice what Potter was doing until he'd already begun setting up some ingredients in a fresh cauldron. When he noticed Potter on his hands and knees, scrubbing, he just shook his head and began mixing things. "Why did you say that, Potter?"

The other boy looked up. "What? Didn't hear you."

Sirius scowled. "Why did you lie about it? You didn't touch me. Someone messed with my ingredients. And don't try to tell me you did that either. You were never close enough to touch them."

Potter nodded. "Yeah, I know. I think it was Snape. He was kind of hanging around for awhile. I didn't see what he was doing, or I'd have told you. Not that you'd have noticed. You really shut everything out when you're in here. I'm surprised you noticed me. Especially since you seemed to be making it a point to ignore me."

Sirius looked up from his potions book, and began heating the cauldron. Sweat was beading on his forehead. "You're such an idiot, Potter. If you know I've been ignoring you, then why the hell are you doing this?"

Potter grinned. "I told you I owed you one. It may not exactly be life for a life, but I figured you could at least use the help cleaning."

Sirius turned to look at the other boy, but the sudden movement made him dizzy and he caught himself on the desk.

"Black? Are you okay?"

Sirius nodded as the wave of nausea passed. He glanced over at Potter, who was practically kneeling in the potion. He couldn't take it anymore, "Potter, will you stop being such an idiot and get up?"  
Temper flashed in the boy's hazel eyes. "I'm trying to help. It isn't like _you're_ cleaning anything—"

"James?"

Both boys turned to see Lupin standing in the doorway, looking a little better than he had the past evening. Sleep seemed to have done him well. He didn't have that dazed look anymore at least. Lupin's amber eyes scanned the room, as he assessed the situation.

"Black's potion exploded," Potter explained. His expression darkened, and he added by way of explanation. "Snape."

Lupin immediately looked at Sirius who was easing himself onto a stool. The Ravenclaw seemed concerned.

Sirius didn't really care. He was busy waiting for the right moment to cut the heat on the cauldron.

Potter just kept talking. "Since Black here saved my skin once already, I figured the least I could do is help him clean up."

Sirius cut the heat on the cauldron and pulled out two small beakers. His hands shook a little, and he almost dropped one.

Lupin still looked worried, but Potter hadn't even noticed. "Remus, why don't you go to lunch, and I'll meet you there when we're done?"

Lupin shook his head. "Why don't I just—"

"No!" Sirius snapped cutting him off. "Just stay out there!"

"Relax, Black. He's just trying to help." Potter turned and glared at him, and finally seemed to notice how pale Sirius was getting. "Black?"

Sirius shook his head, ignoring him. "I don't care if he wants to help or not. I don't want him to poison himself." He scowled in annoyance at Potter's blank look and added by way of explanation, "Because of the wolfsbane that got thrown in here."

Lupin's eyes widened. "But why would you—why would wolfsbane poison me? Isn't it usually benign?"

Sirius nodded, closing his eyes again to force back the nausea. "Normally it is, but it wasn't supposed to be in this potion. With wolfsbane mixed in, the potion reverted back into a mild poison. And I've only made enough antidote for us." Black handed Potter a beaker, and then drank his own. "Now," he said, setting the beaker down and managing a fairly forceful glare, pale though he was, "as I was _trying_ to tell you before, Potter, get out of the spill unless you want to make yourself sick."  
Potter finally jumped up and wiped himself off, the situation hitting him in its entirety. "Nocturna left us to clean up _poison_?" He grabbed his beaker and chugged it, scalding his mouth.

"It isn't fatal," Sirius muttered. "It just makes you sick. Don't be so melodramatic. What are _you_ complaining about anyway? _I'm_ the one who got it in the face. It didn't even start affecting you yet."

Potter ignored him. "Good thing Remus _didn't_ come in to help clean."

Lupin looked a bit embarrassed. "Actually, I wasn't going to. Black looked sick. I was just offering to help him." He smiled at Potter's startled look. "Sorry, James, but everybody knows you don't clean up spilt potion with your bare hands."

"Obviously _he_ doesn't," Sirius muttered, clearing up the mess he'd made mixing the antidote. It didn't take him long. Then he moved to finally help Potter, who, Sirius hated to admit, really had done a decent job. They were done cleaning in no time.

Finally the last of the ingredients were put away, the contaminated rags were disposed of, and Sirius had a chance to look at the time. They really only had about fifteen minutes left for lunch. He sighed. So much for getting his homework done. He'd have to rush through transfiguration now, just to try to milk a little time from that class.

The three boys walked from the potions room, closing the door behind them. They began making their way to their common rooms to drop off their books. Potter was complaining about never being able to eat again after cleaning that slop from the floor. Sirius eyed the opposite hall. Maybe if he just skipped picking up his lunch and went strait to the library, he'd have enough time to answer his last few Defense Against the Dark Arts questions. He didn't really have much of an appetite right now anyway. And he'd probably have some Astronomy homework to do during supper.

"Black? What's wrong?" Lupin still seemed concerned about him.

Potter finally shut up long enough to notice that Sirius had stopped walking.

Sirius blinked at the two boys, their interest taking him by surprise. "Huh? I'm just—going to the library..." Then his eyes hardened, and he looked away. "Why?"

The icy tone that had suddenly crept into his voice didn't slip past them. Lupin and Potter exchanged looks. Lupin shrugged. "No reason. I wasn't trying to pry. You just stopped so suddenly." He paused. "I know you probably still feel sick from that potion, but maybe you should eat something. It might make you feel better."

"Why do you care?"

"What?" Lupin's amber eyes widened.

"What's your problem, Black?" Potter cut in. "Every time Remus tries to help you out, you just snap at him."

"James," Lupin's quiet voice broke through. "Don't."

But Potter was already angry now. "No, Remus. He acts like the whole world's out to get him."

Sirius scowled, "And you act like Lupin can't defend himself. Did it occur to you that _he_ may be able to speak for himself? Why do you always come to his rescue?"

"Because we're friends, Black. Friends do those things. Don't you understand what that means?" Potter's sarcasm was unmistakable, but it was lost on Sirius this time.

"No," he growled. "I don't, Potter. Before you try laying the world's problems _on_ me, why don't you take a good look around you? I don't _have_ friends here. Can't you see that? I have one girl who occasionally talks to me. That's it. In the past year, all I've managed to do is get everyone to hate me." He laughed, sounding a little unbalanced. "And I'm not even sure how I managed it."

Potter frowned. "No one wants to talk to you, because of the stuff you do. Your behavior."

"My behavior?" Sirius laughed again, advancing on Potter. This time his laughter had a darker quality to it. "Do you mean the detentions? Which ones? The ones I get because I'm trying to avoid having to live in my own house, or do you mean the ones people _say_ I have when I disappear from class for a few days? Because we all know what _terrible_ things I'm doing when that happens."

That last comment wasn't lost on Potter. He flinched but didn't back down. "That's only part of it. You don't talk to people. When they try to talk, you rip their heads off. Like you keep doing to Remus."

"James, don't do this..." It was weird hearing Lupin with a warning tone to his voice.

"I don't know how to talk to you people, okay? I'm not _like_ you. I didn't grow up like you. I didn't spend time around people, doing whatever you people do. You don't want to know what I had to do—"

Sirius broke off, realizing where the conversation was about to go. He had to get out of here. It was going—had _gone_ too far, and was hitting dangerous grounds. "Listen, just forget it. I need to get to the library. I'm wasting time. If I don't get my homework done now, I won't have time for Astronomy homework during dinner."

He turned to stomp off and was surprised to hear Lupin of all people respond.

"Black?"

He stopped. He didn't know why, but he did. "What?"

"Don't you eat?"

Sirius turned, perplexed. " _What?"_

"Why are you doing your homework during mealtimes?"

Sirius scowled again, staring at the wall to the left of Lupin. "When else am I supposed to do it? I told you, everyone hates me. That includes my own house. I figured you'd have noticed when Snape tried to poison me." He didn't cover the dry sarcasm in his voice.  
Something finally seemed to click for Potter. "Because you helped me?"

Sirius shrugged, tucking some of his long, black hair behind his ear. "Doesn't matter. It would have happened eventually. Don't go pitying me about that, too, now." He glanced down at his watch again and sighed. "Great, I don't really have time to work on anything anymore." He sent a weak glare in their direction. But he was just too tired of everything by then to put much force behind it. "I have to go."

Potter had an odd look on his face. "I didn't know you got in trouble for helping me. I didn't even think of it."

"James tends to make a habit of not thinking," Lupin said. He smiled faintly, even though his eyes remained worried. His eyes always seemed worried.

"Thanks a lot," James said dryly.

Sirius just watched the exchange. Is that what it was like to be friends? Is this what Lily was trying to do? Get to that point where you could just pick on each other, and no one got angry? It was strange to watch.

Potter's eyes lit up just then, as an idea seemed to strike him. "Wait a minute. This is my fault anyway, right?" He didn't give Sirius a chance to answer. "And you can't get any work done in your common room. Why don't we all study together? We could do it after supper. Then you don't have to skip two meals, and you'll still get it done."

Sirius shook his head. "Don't you think I've tried that before? How stupid do you think I am? The library closes too early for me to finish unless I start during supper."

James grinned. "I wasn't talking about the library."

"Then where—?"

"Leave it to me, Black. We'll meet right outside the Great Hall after supper."

Sirius' blue eyes jumped from one boy's face to the other, not quite trusting them. Something wasn't right. Why would Potter want to help? "I don't understand..." he said slowly.

Potter shrugged. "You don't have to. I just want to help out. Not because I _pity_ you, like you think, either. That actually never crossed my mind. It's just..." He shook his head and looked amazed. "Everybody doesn't hate you, you know. You're just a hard person to understand, so people are scared of you. And you always act like such a dumb git to me." Potter grinned. Even so, it took Sirius a moment to realize that he was only being teased.

"So, I'll see you after dinner."

"Whatever," Sirius muttered. He watched Potter and Lupin walk off. What had he gotten himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I hope you like the developments! And don't worry... I haven't forgotten about Peter. Thank you for reading this one as well. Please review this one as well. And stay tuned for "Chapter 14: Shades of Black."


	15. Shades of Black

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 14—Shades of Black**

Lunch was a hurried affair for Sirius, but it was kind of refreshing eating in the Great Hall with everyone else, even if no one really wanted him there. And he managed to use some of that time to come up with a way to pay Snape back as well. Sirius had smiled in amusement during History of Magic when Snape realized that his entire bundle of quills had been replaced by the sugar quills that Hagrid had gotten Sirius during a run to Hogsmede. Sirius smirked. _"Poor Snape. And we're going to have a quiz on this stuff tomorrow…"_

Finally, it was time for Transfiguration, the last class of the day. He didn't know what to expect. Snape would pay him back somehow, but would he try it now, or wait until tonight in the common room? Sirius made a mental note to thoroughly check his bed before sleeping.

He entered the classroom, and walked to his usual spot behind Lupin. That had been at least one nice thing about his battle with the Slytherins. Since they were all avoiding him, he had no need to change any of _his_ seats to avoid _them_.

He was about to dump his bag on his desk when Lupin turned and smiled at him. "Hey, Black. Why don't you just sit up here with me? There's an empty desk."

Sirius just stared at him. "What?"

The pale boy shook his head. "You say that a lot, don't you? I said, you should sit up here. What's the point in sitting by yourself? And if we're going to be doing homework together tonight, we might as well be partners in class today."

Sirius still didn't move. Had Lupin lost his mind? His eyes narrowed, trying to figure out the other boy's motives. "Wait a minute. I get it. You're afraid I'm going to draw on you again. I haven't done that in a week now, and I _told_ you it wasn't anything personal, so you can relax."

They stared at each other for a minute. Lupin seemed to have been stunned into silence. Finally, he said in a low voice, "Don't you trust _anyone_? I thought _I_ was bad, but you really don't know how to read people's actions, do you?" He glanced around at the swiftly filling class, and lowered his voice further. "Just sit by me. Trust someone for once. What's the worst that could happen? I could act like one of your housemates, and you'll get mad and hex me. Now, sit."

Sirius was too startled to even bother arguing that logic. That was probably the most he'd ever heard Lupin say at one time. He seemed to be making a quick recovery from whatever had pulled him from class. Sirius hauled his bag over to the desk next to Lupin, and tossed it down. The desk seemed sturdy enough. He grabbed the chair back and pressed on it. Not going to collapse on him. Okay, that was good, too. Then he ran his wand quickly over the seat of the chair and the bottom of the desk. All clear. He finally sat down, and began unloading his bag.

All through this, Lupin just watched him in amusement. "You know," he finally commented, "there are aurors less paranoid than you."

Sirius just quirked an eyebrow at him, while flipping open his textbook. "You didn't see the look on Snape's face last class when he realized that I'd switched his quills." He began turning to the page McGonagall had on the board.

It was a moment before Sirius realized that the quiet choking sound coming from beside him was Lupin trying to suppress laughter. He glanced over to see the sandy-haired boy with his face in his hands, shoulders shaking slightly.

Lupin finally looked up, an amused smile still playing on his lips. "Well, that explains a lot."

"A lot of what?"

Lupin pulled out a quill, and sending a questioning look at Sirius, tested it on his parchment, drawing an outraged cry from Sirius. "I didn't mess with yours! Cripes! What explains a lot of what?"

Lupin dipped his quill again, and carefully shook off some excess ink. "Just the fact that your usual seat was hexed by about four different Slytherins today, and Snape's looked particularly nasty." He smiled up at Sirius. "Why do you think I insisted you sit up here? Besides the obvious reason that it's harder for you to draw on me this way." His amber eyes were teasing.

Sirius just stared at him. "You _saw_ them?"  
Lupin laughed and nodded. "Yeah. I'm usually the first one into class. And apparently, I'm not important enough for the Slytherins to worry about, so I pretty much watched them do it."

Sirius looked concerned. "And now that you helped me, you're going to be a target, too."

"I've been a target since first year," Lupin replied simply, brushing it off as though it were nothing. "Why do you think I try to be the first one into class?"

"Oh."

There was an awkward silence, and Sirius began digging around in his bag for a good quill to keep from continuing the discussion. After finding three more sugar quills and a couple of real quills that were broken, he started just dumping everything out of his bag onto the desk. He had one good quill at the bottom of his bag. He really shouldn't have thrown Snape's quills out last period.

"What's this?"

Sirius turned to see Lupin looking at the book McGonagall had lent him. "Old textbook," he grunted, shoving everything back into his bag. Honestly, this was why all of his quills broke.

Lupin flipped the book open. "I'll say it's old. Is this from when Dumbledore taught?"

"I guess so," Sirius muttered. "His name's in it."

Lupin was flipping through the text, fascinated. "Do you know how to _do_ this stuff?"

Finally Sirius stopped messing with his bag long enough to look at the other boy. "Some. I just started that one, so I'm only a few chapters in." He flushed, somewhat embarrassed. "I was having trouble in class, so McGonagall gave me some other texts to practice on. I just returned the one she lent me over the summer. I guess this must be for year two."

A silly grin crept onto Lupin's face, making Sirius even more uncomfortable. "I can't help it if I didn't know the basics, Lupin" he snapped. "At least she didn't hold me back."

The smile faded as the other boy shook his head. "Relax, I'm not laughing at you. I just think it's funny. You're acting like you're stupid in this class or something, but she's got you using a third year text."

"A what?" Sirius snatched the book out of Lupin's hands, and looked at it. "I thought it was second year."

"I know," Lupin replied. "That's what was so funny. But if you look at the spine, it has a 'C' on it."

"So? That means third year?"

"That's how the older texts marked the year. The History book has the same system," Lupin said. "You didn't notice?"

"That would involve me reading it. Last year I just copied off of Snape." Sirius' smiled warily.

"Ah. Well, don't expect to copy from me this year. James already tried it. You can ask him how well that works."

Sirius didn't answer. McGonagall was sweeping into the room just then, and students who had been standing, talking to friends suddenly began diving into seats. One unthinking Slytherin miscalculated and wound up in Sirius' usual seat. The combination of stinkbombs, enlargement charms, and a shrinking charm was quite interesting. One would think that they'd somewhat cancel each other out, but all they did was combine in a weird way by making him grow tentacles.

Sirius glanced at Lupin gratefully, and was surprised to see the Ravenclaw stifling more laughter.

"You didn't strike me as the type to laugh at mayham," Sirius muttered, as McGonagall swiftly began countering what spells she could, as she sent him to the hospital ward.

"Oh, I'm not. But he was one of the ones who set a hex on your seat, so I'd say it was well deserved." Lupin's eyes were mischievous.

"Really?" Sirius' lips twitched into a smile as Lupin began to chuckle.

McGonagall spun on them, eyes narrowed. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think one you two knew something about this."

Sirius stared straight back at her wide-eyed and as innocent as he could realistically look. "Why would I hex my own seat? I mean, who would I expect to sit there?"

Lupin was covering his laughter with a coughing fit that only seemed to worsen at Sirius' answer.

McGonagall eyed both of them critically, but didn't take away any points from either house. Instead she began a rather lengthy lecture on responsible magic using. She glared around the room. "And since we seem unable to grasp the seriousness of being responsible, today seems like a good day to do review work on magical safety."

The entire class groaned.

McGonagall's businesslike smile did not reach her eyes. "Perhaps if you don't like these little reviews, you'll think twice next time you set a hex. Now please turn to the introduction on page three of your textbook. That's roman numeral three…"

Sirius and Lupin exchanged looks, Sirius rolling his eyes, and Lupin sighing. Only fifty minutes to go before supper, their looks said. Something to live for.

* * *

Supper was tolerable. Sirius sat alone at the end of the Slytherin table, eating thoughtfully. He still hadn't managed to figure out what Potter had planned for their studying, and it turned out that they'd gotten a _lot_ of Transfiguration homework, all on safety in the classroom, so he had to hope that he actually _would_ get a chance to work on it. He didn't like having to count on anyone like this. It never worked out in the end.

Finally, the meal was over, and Sirius slowly walked to the door, making sure that he was the last one out. A part of him was certain that Potter and Lupin would be gone, leaving Sirius as the butt of some joke fantastic joke of theirs, so, he wasn't surprised when no one was waiting outside the Great Hall. He stopped a moment, looked around with a sigh, and prepared to leave for his common room when he suddenly felt a tug on his robes where there had previously been no one. Sirius spun around to see an arm floating in space, then a head, and finally the rest of Potter, followed by Lupin.

Sirius gaped at them.

"Invisibility cloak," Potter said, grinning. "Couldn't let the prefects catch us waiting around."

Sirius nodded. "I've seen one of those before. I just didn't expect… never mind." He looked at both boys in turn. "So, where is this place we can study?"

"Gryffindor common room," Potter announced. "No one will bother us there."

Sirius glared at him. "Funny, Potter."

The other boy's hazel eyes opened wide. "I mean it! When I first made friends with Remus, I was having problems in charms, and he was helping me out. I started sneaking him into the common room and no one cared. We've been doing it ever since."

Sirius ran his hand through his long black hair, pulling some from the cord tying it back. "That's all very special, Potter. But did it occur to you that there's a major difference between Lupin and me? Namely the fact that _I_ am a Slytherin with a bad reputation for causing trouble, and Lupin is a Ravenclaw who certainly wouldn't strike anyone as a threat."

Potter brushed his concerns off. "Just leave everything to me, Black. You'll get in." He flipped the cloak over himself and Remus. They vanished. A disembodied voice came from where they'd stood a moment earlier. "Come on, Black. We don't have all night."

A mental image of three boys trying to cram in under one cloak hit Sirius, and he just shook his head. "I'll risk getting caught," he muttered, starting to walk toward the common rooms, and hoping the boys were following. Luckily, no one stopped Sirius in the halls. As soon as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Potter and Lupin appeared again.

The portrait sent each boy a hard look, saving the longest and harshest for Sirius. "Password?" she asked, finally.

Potter said something quietly, and the portrait swung open. He turned back to them, and smirked. "Don't worry. I have everything under control." He slipped the rest of the way into the room, and the door swung shut and locked behind him.

Sirius was left alone with Lupin. The boys stood against the wall, Sirius glancing back at the Fat Lady, and muttering to the Ravenclaw, "I've heard people say that before. Usually it's right before everything goes to hell."  
Lupin just shrugged. "You don't know James. He can be very persuasive. I'll bet you're in before you know it."

Sirius snorted and said nothing. There was a long silent pause as each boy focused on his own thoughts.

Finally Lupin broke the silence to ask a question. "Why did you save James? I mean, it's no secret that you two never really got along."

The look Sirius sent Lupin should have silenced the smaller boy, but instead Lupin looked him straight in the eye as though expecting a response. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Sirius growled, angrily. "What kind of a person do you all think I _am_? None of you even know me, and you all think I'd let some other kid get hurt just because we don't get along. Just because I'm Slytherin—"

"No," Lupin cut in. "I'm sure that's what everyone else is thinking, but…" He shrugged. "I don't know. You never struck me as the type. I remember when you were sorted, and I had you pegged for Gryffindor. I was really surprised when the hat put you in Slytherin. And you didn't look too pleased." He seemed a little embarrassed, and smiled faintly. "I don't know why I remember this. I guess probably because you were the only one who didn't seem happy with your sorting. It stuck with me." Lupin set his bag down on the floor, and slid down to sit beside it. He looked back up at Sirius who was speechless. "It's just that you don't seem to _like_ anyone here. So, I didn't think you would be willing to risk your neck for some random student that you didn't even really get along with. That's all."

Sirius shrugged uncomfortably. He hadn't thought that anyone had really noticed him when he wasn't part of Malfoy's little gang. "Anyone else would have done it. It was nothing."

"But no one else did."

"I was the only one on that side of the quidditch field. I was the only one close enough," Sirius snapped.

"Why are you getting so defensive about it, Black?" Lupin asked softly. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's a good thing you were the closest one, because I don't think anyone else would have tried to save him. Do you realize how close you came to killing yourself on that broom? You and James are probably the only two people I know who could have controlled a broom that way. No one else would have risked it." He paused, thoughtfully. "Do you really believe that anyone else would have saved him? Because for someone who doesn't seem to trust anyone, you're putting an awful lot of faith in them."

"They aren't bad people," Sirius replied, leaning against the cold stone wall. "Even most of _my_ house really aren't _bad_ , just self-centered."

"They tried to kill James."

Sirius smiled a sad little smile that made him seem older. "They didn't know what they were doing. I've seen worse. There are people out there who could kill without _anyone_ being able to get in the way."  
They boys fell silent.

After a minute or two, Lupin spoke again. "Well, anyway, it was impressive. I just wanted to say that."

Sirius nodded. "Thanks."

Lupin pulled a book out of his bag and began flipping through. He sighed. "James is taking a long time."

"He's stubborn," Sirius said. "I've been on the other side of that. It's going to take them awhile before they can convince him how bad an idea it is to let me in."

Lupin shook his head. "They'll let you in."

Sirius opened his mouth to respond when the portrait flipped open and Potter's head popped out. He was grinning.

Sirius straightened, and Lupin stood quickly.

"Well?" Sirius asked.

Potter smirked. "I'm smiling, Black. Would I be doing that if they said no?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

Potter let out an exasperated sigh, still looking happy. "You can come in. We just aren't allowed out of the common room."

They want to keep an eye on me, Sirius realized. But it was still amazing to him that they'd agreed at all. By then Potter had already gone back in, and Lupin was close behind, so Sirius followed before the Fat Lady could shut him out.

The inside of the Gryffindor common room was almost exactly as he'd remembered it. It was strange how much more comfortable he was in here, even though he'd only spent a month in this wing. The tapestries framing the wall were much more inviting than the sour portraits, and the red and gold leant a warmth to the room that silver and green could never do. The only chill in this room was the cold silence that Sirius was greeted with when he entered. He didn't make eye contact with anyone, and just made a beeline for the table, sitting down at the end where he didn't have to see the rest of the students staring at him.

Potter and Lupin were talking to a red-haired boy, but they quickly ended their conversation when they noticed Sirius quietly walk past. They took their seats near him at the table. Sirius already had his Astronomy homework out, and was working to fix his mistakes on his Northern sky. A hexagon was a king and a "W" was a queen. He was quickly deciding that the ancients must have been very bored people to come up with these pictures.

Sirius glanced up at Potter, who was quietly working on his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. "Potter, what's the queen's name? Castor?"

Potter shook his head. "No, Castor is this star here." He pointed at a different constellation. "It's the one you called Aldebaran. Castor's part of Gemini. And Aldebaran is part of Taurus, which is here." He motioned to another set of stars shaped like a "V." "You want Cassiopeia. And the king is Cepheus, not Syphilis. That's a nasty muggle disease."

Sirius cursed quietly under his breath and began scribbling names off of the parchment. "Didn't I get any right?"

Potter looked over the paper again. "You got Sirius," he said. "But I guess that isn't much of a feat, since you already knew it. Oh, and Canis Major and Minor." He looked closer. "How do you keep screwing up Orion? It goes here."

Sirius glared up at him. "Because it's a bloody square with three dots in it."

Potter grinned. "And you _passed_ this class last year?"

Sirius lifted his chin in his most defiant pose. "I _passed_ everything last year. Just because I passed didn't mean I understood. I didn't sit next to Snape for the companionship, you know."

"Could have fooled me," Lupin said lightly. "I thought only close friends hexed each other's seats."

"No," Sirius said, managed a small, rather wicked smile. "Only great enemies and great lovers make it that far. I prefer to _not_ contemplate that second option, if you don't mind."

James laughed. "That's two. I'd never expected you to have a sense of humor, Black. Especially not a wicked one. Good to know."

Lupin shook his head. "If you want a real laugh, James, you should see him pretend to be innocent to Professor McGonagall. You can almost _see_ a tarnished halo getting caught on one of his horns."

Sirius smiled distractedly, but didn't answer, as Potter began laughing harder. They were staring at him. The entire common room. He could feel their eyes on his back, _had_ felt them since he'd entered the room. And it wasn't pleasant. He shot a glance back at them, and wasn't surprised when most didn't even bother pretending that they hadn't been staring. A few even narrowed their eyes at him, as though daring him to start something.

"Black?"

"Huh?" Sirius turned to see Potter and Lupin both staring at him. "Sorry… I was just…" He trailed off.

Potter shrugged. "I was just going to point out that I can hardly see the stars on your chart anymore. You may want to consider fresh parchment."

Sirius looked down at the mass of scribbles and pools of ink where his quill had been steadily dripping onto the paper." He sighed, stood up and threw out the paper in the garbage can near the window. Then he walked over to the desk, and pulled a fresh sheet of parchment out from the top drawer, and made his way back to the table through the hostile stares.

He sat down, laying the paper flat. "Can I borrow yours for a minute? I need to know where the stars go," he asked Potter.

The other boy dug the chart out of his bag and laid it out. "Black," he said slowly. "Is your common room set up like this one is?"

Sirius dipped his quill, and remembered to tap off the excess this time, as he began copying star patterns. "No. Totally different. The dorms are set up differently, too."

Potter sent Lupin an odd look, but the Ravenclaw was too engrossed in his Transfiguration homework to notice. "Black," Potter finally said. "How do you know what our dorms look like?"

Sirius looked up. "Before I was sorted. McGonagall had to keep an eye on me during August, so I was stuck in here for a month."

Potter responded to that somehow, but Sirius missed it. He'd begun to hear murmuring behind him, and was picking out some of the words, most of which sounded like interesting stories of detentions that Sirius was relatively sure he hadn't served for things he was certain he hadn't done.

"Do you really think he used the _Crucius_ curse on a student last week? That's why Aramea said he was out. I guess he said he was just having some fun." There was disgust in the girl's voice.

The quill snapped in Sirius' hand, and he stood, stepping away from the table, and pushing the chair in with forced calm.

"Black?" Potter hissed. "Sit down. What's wrong?"

Lupin glanced up, a worried frown spreading as soon as he saw the look on his face.

Sirius ignored both of them and turned on the Gryffindors. He looked up, straight at them for the first time that night. Possibly the first time ever.

The room fell silent.

"The Crucius curse?" he asked quietly. He glanced around the room, until he spotted a slender girl with a guilty look on her face. "Are you the one who wanted to know about it?"

Her face went ashen.

His cold eyes scanned the room. "Did I do an unforgivable to earn detention last week? Is that right?" He finally looked away from her, taking a moment to look at everyone in turn. "You all seem to have gotten this _wonderful_ impression of me. Unfortunately not one of you knows me. Who in here have I ever hexed?" He glanced around. "What, no one? How about hurt? Or beat up? No?" He took a step forward, anger finally flashing in his icy blue eyes. "How about even cheated off of? Come on. I have such an impressive reputation. I must have done something to _one_ of you." His voice lowered to a growl.

"Nothing," he said. "But you _still_ don't seem to have any problem believing that I would _torture_ someone for _fun_."

No one answered. No one could even bring themselves to make eye contact, except for one girl with long black hair, sitting on the sofa, watching him with interested eyes, and the red-haired boy that Potter had spoken to on the way in, who looked like he was trying to decide what to say.

Sirius didn't give him the chance. He turned and began gathering up his things. "I told you this was a bad idea, Potter," he muttered.

"Black… I'm sorry," the other boy said. "I didn't know they'd—"

"Forget it," he replied shortly. "It isn't your fault. Thanks for trying."

Suddenly a voice came from behind him. "Wait."

Sirius turned to see the redhead.

"Arthur," a plump girl beside him hissed.

He ignored her. "You don't have to leave. Mary was wrong for having said that about you. Anyone who was spreading the rumors was wrong, so why should you have to leave?"

Several Gryffindors glared at the boy named Arthur as he spoke, but they held their tongues.

Sirius shook his head. "I'm not wanted here. Don't worry about it. I'm used to this."

"Come on, Black," Potter cut in. "Arthur's right. You don't have to suck it up all the time. Sit down and they can deal with it." He sent a glare at several of his housemates.

"What's all this commotion about?" came a different voice from the top of the stairs. "If you don't quiet down, McGonagall's going to come in and let you all have it."

Sirius looked up to see Lily in her nightrobes sending a furious look around the room. Finally her eyes settled on him. "Sirius!" she squealed, eyes wide and anger forgotten. "What are you doing here?"

He didn't get a chance to answer before she flew down the stairs and rushed up to him. "This is great! Are you studying in here with Remus now?" she asked. "This means I don't have to pretend we aren't friends anymore, right?"

There was a lot of hushed whispering behind them.

Sirius didn't answer. He couldn't even look at her. His anger was rushing out of him, but nothing else seemed to be filling him up. He was just empty now, and confused. There were people who wanted him in here still. But what about everyone else?"

"Sirius? What's wrong?" She stared up at him for a moment, then noticed the rest of the room. "What's wrong?" she repeated, her voice taking on a harder quality. She knew what was wrong now.

The dark-haired girl scowled. "They're all being idiots," she said. "They don't trust him 'cause he's the notorious Sirius Black." She snorted. "Honestly, what a bunch of morons."

Sirius blinked at her a couple of times. Had this girl just defended him?

She grinned. "Close your mouth, or you'll let the flies in," she said lightly to him. Then she narrowed your eyes. "You know, now that I can get a good look at you from a distance shorter than the width of the Great Hall, I think you may be a cousin after all. Burned off, of course."

He shook his head. Never mind. She was crazy. Did it count if a crazy girl defended him? "What are you talking about?" he asked, raising one black eyebrow in confusion.

She laughed. "Yeah, I didn't introduce myself." She stood up and approached him, hand extended. "Andromeda Black. I'm sure you met my witch of a sister, Narcissa. All I can say is thank God she's a Slytherin. Bad enough having a girl like that as a twin, but if I had to share a room with her…" She trailed off, shrugging. "Anyway, they were all wondering if we were related." She jerked a thumb at the others behind her. "And like I said, I'll bet we are. Can't remember everyone on the old family tree, and it's a tradition to burn the decent ones off. You probably aren't even on there. Any Slytherin who would save a Gryffindor's life from a sixty-foot drop _obviously_ isn't good enough to be a Black."

The little chatterbox grinned and winked, whispering to him. "That'll give them something to think about. Bet they all conveniently forgot you're the school hero!"

Sirius backed away from Andromeda a little. He'd never met anyone like her. He wasn't quite sure he'd ever wanted to. "Ah—yes. Your sister's… something," he managed. "You're very… different."

She laughed. "Why thank you. Best compliment I've had all day. _She_ will never get wiped off the tapestry. Shame. She'd probably do the world a favor and off herself if she did." She smiled at the mildly horrified look that both Lily and Sirius sent her and continued with a little shrug. "Personally, my goal in life is get them mad enough that they not only burn my name off the family tapestry, but pretend I was never born. Ah, to be the bane of the Black family existence. Nothing would be sweeter."

Jenny came up just then, grabbing Andromeda and dragging her away. "Sorry," she said Sirius and Lily. "Allow me to sedate her. I knew we shouldn't have let her eat a case of chocolate frogs. I've never seen such a sugar high."

Andromeda pulled her arm out of Jenny's grip, laughing. "Hey, I got my Merlin card, didn't I?"

The insanity of the situation seemed to somehow have loosened everything up, and finally the focus was drawn away from Sirius. For lack of anything better to do, he sat back in his chair.

Lily pulled up a seat beside him. "So will you be studying here often? Because maybe I could join in sometimes…"

Lupin and Potter exchanged looks as Sirius just shrugged. "I don't know. I wasn't exactly welcome."

"They have to get used to you," Lupin said. "They didn't even talk to me the first few times I came. And I never confronted them, either, so it took them awhile to come around."

"Yeah," Potter said. "And anyway, it isn't like _no one_ wants you here. Arthur's on your side. Andromeda likes you, and that's saying something, since I think she's come up with a special hex for every Slytherin in the school. And clearly Evans wants you here."

Lily put her hands on her hips. "What? I'm not worthy of a first name?"

Potter made a face at her, which she returned.

"Speaking of first names," Lupin cut in, just as Potter was trying to turn his eyelids inside out to gross her out and get rid of her. "Don't you think we could try to _use_ first names? It would be a bit friendlier."

"What?" Potter asked, turning to quick and yanking on his eyelid. "Ouch."

"Idiot," Lily snorted, getting up and saying good night to Sirius and Lupin.

Lupin sighed. "First names," he prompted. "At James' blank look," he shook his head. "Never mind. We can talk about it later. Let's just get our work done."

"Fine. Whatever," Potter said, holding his eye. "That really hurt, you know. I think I need an ice pack."

"I hope you gave yourself a black eye," Lupin muttered, flipping his book open.

"Thanks, mate." Potter finally went back to his work, commenting to Sirius, "Get the chart copied. I need my paper back and I don't want you screwing our grade up by having it all wrong tomorrow."

Sirius just nodded and pulled things back out of his bag. The tension he'd felt since entering the common room had eased. He dipped his quill again, and began working, feeling that this entire evening had been surreal. And it wasn't so much the chaos of that past few minutes that felt the strangest to him.

It was the fact that for the first time, someone had stood up for him. It was a strange feeling for him to finally understand what Lily had said to him last Christmas. There were suddenly people around him who, even if they didn't particularly care, would at least _notice_ if he were to die. He dipped the quill again, and labeled a galaxy near Pegasus that he'd finally remembered. Andromeda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hello. It's me again. As usual, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please look forward to Chapter 15: Behind Every Dark Cloud


	16. Behind Every Dark Cloud

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 15—Behind Every Dark Cloud**

The days seemed to pass by for Sirius quickly after his first night studying with James and Remus. (They were on a first name basis now, which Remus had demanded on their third night studying together.) He finally had somewhere he could belong. Life was still difficult for him in his own house, but at least now he had somewhere to escape to. And as time wore on, the rest of the Gryffindors even became more comfortable around him, as Remus had predicted. Andromeda and Lily would study with them sometimes, and Arthur Weasley would greet him on the way in. Sirius and Arthur even chatted now and then, as they'd discovered that they shared an interest in muggles. None of it was anything earth-shattering, but it was nice to feel safe and wanted somewhere.

Classes were greatly improving. Remus was a genius at almost everything. It seemed as though that boy had read every book in the library. James kept Sirius afloat in Astronomy. And Sirius saved them both in potions. The system was perfect. If only Sirius could just _become_ a Gryffindor, he'd be all set. But he unfortunately still had the Slytherins to deal with, and they'd become far worse now that Sirius was openly friends with the Gryffindors and Remus. It got so bad that one of the Slytherin beaters had even shot a bludger at Sirius during their last game, almost taking him off of his broom. It had been strange to hear a fair amount of Gryffindors actually boo when a _Slytherin_ was hurt. Although that amusement faded when Sirius got an earful from Madame Pomphrey the second he'd stepped into the hospital wing with cracked ribs.

In the end, his final quidditch decision shouldn't have come as any surprise when James found out in mid-December. But for some reason, it did. That evening, Sirius and Remus waited outside of the common room for someone to come by and let them in, as they always did on days James couldn't immediately be there. Odds were low on Gryffindor practice nights, as a fair amount of the common room was absent, but they waited nonetheless. Someone would have to come by eventually, and it gave Sirius and Remus a chance to chat anyway. Finally, James came tramping up, wet from the showers and dragging his bag behind him. Grinning in his cocky way, he whispered the password to the fat lady and they all went in.

James flopped onto the sofa to catch his breath.

Remus and Sirius exchanged looks, as they each took a seat in chairs near the fireplace. "Rough practice?" Sirius asked.

James nodded. "Yeah. Prewitt really put us through the motions today. And it didn't help that we had to share the pitch with the Slytherin team. Makes it even harder to practice when you're dodging enchanted bludgers and an exploding quaffle the whole time. Finally Prewitt got fed up and called it quits." He smirked. "Lucky for us, too, or I'd have probably never made it here at all!"

Remus laughed. "Another reason I don't go out for sports."

James smiled at his friend. "Yeah, besides the fact that you'd miss half the games by visiting your mum every month," he commented.

Remus flushed and didn't answer, but it didn't really matter. James had moved on. "And, Sirius… where were you? When I saw we were stuck with the Slytherins, I figured I'd at least have you to help liven things up a bit for _them_. Don't tell me you got a detention or something that kept you out of practice." A look of concern flashed in his eyes. "Or were you—"

"No," Sirius said, cutting him off. "No, on both accounts. I just don't belong there anymore." He flipped open his Defense Against the Dark Arts text to keep from having to look into James' eyes. "I dropped the team."

"What!" James exclaimed. "You didn't! Why? You're one of the best flyers out there. They didn't bully you off, did they?"

Sirius' laugh was strained. "No one _made_ me leave, James. I chose to." He glanced up from the book. "I'm not really meant for team sports." His expression darkened. "Especially this team."

James stared at him, dumbfounded, so Sirius continued, trying to make the other boy understand.

"Don't you get it? I'm no help to my team when none of them trusts me. Anyway, whenever we play the Gryffindors, I spend more time rooting for you than guarding the hoops." He shrugged. "So, I quit last week. Pomphrey was thrilled. She sent me a very nice note when she found out, telling me that I apparently have more brains that she'd originally given me credit for."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Why does Madame Pomphrey care? It's not like you get hurt playing quidditch often. You're too good a flyer for that."

"I'm in there more often than you'd think," Sirius said lightly, sending an amused look at James. Apparently the Gryffindor _hadn't_ told his anyone about Sirius' attacks, not even Remus. No wonder he hadn't been teased about it.

James' surprise had shifted to aggravation, though, and he ignored the exchange. "So you just quit? Why do you just give up like that? I can't understand you. You're willing to stand up against all of the Gryffindors, in their own common room, but you can't stand up to your own house? I thought you had more of a backbone than that."

Sirius flinched, as James struck a nerve. James had no idea what real bravery was, unless you counted the showy white knight stuff that he always did. He'd never faced anything truly dark. Hadn't seen the things that Sirius had once stared down, that he still had nightmares about occasionally. That was the problem with Gryffindors. They didn't understand that there were all different kinds of courage. Just because theirs was the blatant, and occasionally stupid sort didn't mean that a person couldn't be brave in different ways. Apparently Slytherin courage was more carefully hidden. Sirius forced down memories of his childhood, scowling. And maybe there was a good reason that Slytherins hid it. "I guess that's why I'm not one of the 'Brave and noble Gryffindors,' then," he growled, frustrated, and although he would never admit it, hurt. "I'm just a 'Sly, self-serving Slytherin,' is that it?"

James' eyes flashed. "I don't know, Black, is it?"

"I'm not good enough to be called 'Sirius,' now?" the Slytherin snapped. "What? I get you angry, and I lose my standing?"

"Only when you act like a stupid git!" came the response.

"James!" Remus cut in, sharply. The boys ignored him.

"Oh, yeah? I'm the stupid git who has to put up with them. I got three cracked ribs off of that last bludger that my own _teammate_ sent at me."

"And I was almost killed from the hex your classmate set on my broom. At least they don't try to _kill_ you, Black."

"Because I know better than to piss them off, or are you too thick to realize that, Potter?"

"Sirius!" Remus said, exasperated, quickly realizing that he'd lost any chance of fixing the situation.

"Shut up, Remus!" the two boys said in unison, before glaring back at each other.

Remus looked tired and worried, but he didn't speak again.

"Fine, then, Black," James snarled. "If you think you're so much better, then why do you need to come over to my house to study?"

"I don't. You offered, and I came. I was doing fine without you. I don't need anyone."

"Then why don't you leave?"

Sirius stood up and began tossing his books into his bag. "If that's how you want it, Potter. It's fine with me."

Remus just sat quietly, distress clear in his eyes. Any other night and he'd probably have fought both of them, and managed to settle them down. Sirius knew that, and respected him for it. Remus was the peacemaker between two very stubborn personalities. But the Ravenclaw had only just come back from one of his absences, and as Sirius had noticed before, his personality was weak at best afterwards. The Ravenclaw was having a hard enough time dealing with his own problems. He couldn't fix everything. But Sirius honestly didn't feel like fixing it either.

He sent James a cold look before slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking toward the door. "See you in class," he said to Remus quietly before leaving. No reason to make _both_ of his friends hate him when only one was being an idiot. Just let James try to study for his potions exam without Sirius' help.

Sirius walked quickly through the Gryffindor wing, his boots clicking on the smooth stone floor, trying to make it to his own house before getting caught by a prefect. It was very nearly lights out. The Slytherin felt his shoulders slump. Of course, now he had to do _his_ studying alone, too. Maybe he could do it tomorrow during breakfast. He took the stairs to the Slytherin wing two at a time, hopping over the disappearing one near the top, and, after saying the password to the gargoyle, slipped quietly into his common room.

The glares from his own house were a thousand times colder than anything the Gryffindors had ever given him. Sirius brushed it off, used to this. He pretended to stop and look at some notes on the bulletin board near the main table where Malfoy's runespoor was currently nestled. As usual, the serpent greeted him with a few mild insults before warning him of the potion Snape had placed on the dorm stairs. Slipping solution. Not very original, but it would have been effective. No wonder most of the students were already in bed.

Sirius whispered out a quick thank you, before making his way to the stairs. Two diagnostic spells later and some careful work maneuvering the stairs, and Sirius was finally in the dorms. There were only a couple of dungbombs in his bed this time. He tossed them into his own personal stash, and ran a few more diagnostics on the bed. No major hexes that he could find. And he was really too tired and fed up to check for the smaller ones.

Sirius quickly changed into his bedrobes, and slipped under the covers, recognizing the freezing spell that was on his blankets a second too late. Tiredly, he worked at breaking it down as his feet went numb. He really was going to have to learn some stronger wards to set around his bed if he wanted to actually start getting to sleep at a decent time.

With that, Sirius Black fell into a troubled slumber, dreaming of courage and friends… and a pair of red eyes burning in the darkness, looking for the boy who had dared to defy him.

* * *

The next day was difficult, and for once Sirius was grateful to have Transfiguration. At least Remus was in there. Sirius managed to get into the class pretty early, and sat beside his friend. "Hey," he said, trying out his most winning smile, "I don't suppose you finished that essay last night, did you?"

Remus just raised an eyebrow at him, and for half a second, Sirius was afraid that he'd managed to lose _both_ of his friends during the previous night's squabble. But then the Ravenclaw sighed and passed the essay onto Sirius' desk. "Just put it into your own words, okay?"

"You're a lifesaver, Remus!" Sirius whipped out some of his own parchment and a usable quill and began writing.

"Yeah, I know," his friend replied quietly. "And _you_ should know that I wouldn't let you copy it, except that I have a funny feeling you didn't get a chance to work much last night…"

Sirius shrugged, and didn't reply. He didn't want to talk about last night.

"Sirius?"

"Don't want to talk about it," he mumbled.

The Ravenclaw sent Sirius an angry look. "You're as bad as James. Can't either of you see how stupid your fight was? Over _quidditch_? I don't care if you dropped the team."  
"James does," Sirius muttered, annoyed that Remus had to start getting his fighting spirit back right now.

"No, Sirius. James is just upset you quit, because you're good at it. You saved his life out there, and he isn't one to forget that. You're an excellent flyer. And you're a really good player. You probably would have made seeker next year. He just doesn't understand why you had to drop something that you seemed to enjoy," Remus said, looking his friend in the eye. "And I can't help but agree with that. Honestly, Sirius. You actually seemed to have _fun_ out there, and with you that's saying something. You hardly even smile. You need _something_ to lighten you up."

"Are you done with the lecture?" Sirius asked, handing Remus his essay back. "Because if you are, I think you should know that I only liked quidditch because I was part of a team. Because for _once_ I wasn't just Sirius Black, the troublemaker or Sirius Black, the Slytherin or even, my personal favorite, Sirius Black, user of the Unforgivables. I was just the keeper. One part of a unit. And it was nice for once just being part of something. But if they hate me, if they can't trust me, then that's gone. I have no reason to play the stupid game anymore."

Remus fingered his quill, trying to grasp this. "You sound like you have some issues to deal with," he said carefully. "You shouldn't have to be part of a group to feel important."

"Thank you for that wonderful inspirational message, Remus. Really, quite sweet. You should write Christmas cards." He hadn't meant to sound so bitter, and he winced when he saw the hurt on his friend's face. "Listen… just forget it. I'm sorry. It isn't your fault." His eyes hardened. "But if James wants to be friends, he's going to have to deal with my decisions, too. No one _ever_ tells me what to do. I don't like people who try to… to _control_ me…"

Remus nodded quietly as McGonagall swept into the room. The students pulled out quills and texts, expecting the professor to jump right into the lesson. But instead she walked to Sirius' desk, stopping directly in front of him.

His eyes widened and he shot a glance at Remus, stammering, "I didn't do it. I swear," as he tried to remember what he might have done that he _hadn't_ already been punished for. Maybe this was about the potion he'd been experimenting with a few days ago. But no one should have known about that until Malfoy ate his lunch today. Sirius tried to look innocent, and failed, so he added, "I'm pretty sure I can reverse it, anyway."

McGonagall arched an eyebrow and said in a mildly amused voice, "That's good to hear, Mr. Black. You can be sure I'll hold you to that as soon as I find out what you did. But for now, I was simply asked to send you to the headmaster's office. He wishes to speak with you."

Sirius stared blankly at her. "Right now?"

"Immediately. You have permission. Make sure you take your things, Mr. Black. I don't know how long you'll be."

Confused and worried, Sirius gathered up his papers and quill and began stuffing things back into his bag as the professor made her way to the front of the classroom. Remus sent him a questioning look, but Sirius could only respond with a shrug, before slinging his bag over his shoulder and making his way out of the room.

Walking the halls when they were this quiet and empty felt strange, and Sirius couldn't keep his mind from running away with him as he made his way to the headmaster's office. What had he done? Perhaps Dumbledore had decided that Sirius had racked up too many detentions, and needed to be spoken to. Then a worse thought came to mind. Or maybe Dumbledore had decided that Sirius' presence in Hogwarts was putting the other students too much at risk, and he was going to be asked to leave. If that were the case, he'd lose everything that he'd finally gained. And it would kill him, because now that he'd gotten a taste of a normal life, he knew he couldn't go back. Not ever.

His heart was in his throat as he approached the elaborate statue that marked the office entrance. And it took him a moment to realize that he didn't know the password and couldn't get in if he wanted to. What was he supposed to do?

He was staring at the statue, frightened and frustrated, when it suddenly began rotating, revealing the moving stairs. Sirius stepped on. Apparently Dumbledore had been waiting for him. At the top of the stairs, he found the heavy door already cracked open. Sirius only hesitated for a moment before entering.

The room was very different from the state it had been in the first time Sirius had seen it. Interesting instruments were now all over the place. All of the portraits were hung neatly on the walls. And the perch now held a beautiful red and gold bird. A big parrot of some kind, maybe. Or some kind of weird, gold peacock? The thing was just staring at him. Sirius was ready to move closer, when he finally noticed the headmaster sitting at his desk, half-hidden behind several massive piles of parchment, reading the paper.

Sirius came forward. "Headmaster?"

Dumbledore looked up from the _Daily Prophet_ and smiled at the boy, making him feel a fraction better. "Hello, Sirius," the old man said, folding the paper and setting it down. "Please sit."

"You sent for me?" the boy asked, sitting stiffly in a chair.  
  
The headmaster smiled kindly. "Yes, I did." He opened a small tin on his desk, and offered Sirius a sherbet lemon.

Sirius reached for one, figuring that refusing it would only make his situation worse.

"Relax, Sirius," Dumbledore commented, when Sirius took his candy and fidgeted with it, rather than eating it.

Sirius didn't loosen up. He just popped the candy in his mouth and stared nervously at the old man who held his future in his hands.

"So," Dumbledore said, leaning forward and folding his hands, "how are your classes?"  
  
Sirius shrugged carefully. "Fine sir."

The old man nodded. "Good, good. I hear that you do exceptionally well in potions as well as transfiguration."

The tall boy just shrugged again for lack of a better response. "Professor McGonagall had to tutor me this summer," he commented truthfully. "I almost failed last year."

The older man nodded, his gentle smile growing. "Yes, she mentioned that you were struggling last year due to a misunderstanding, but have made remarkable progress since that had been cleared up. I'm glad to hear it."

Sirius wouldn't make eye contact with the older man, but he nodded.

Dumbledore's eyes suddenly had a mischievous twinkle to them, and he added. "I also hear that you have some trouble in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I would have thought you'd do well there, considering your background."

Sirius looked up sharply, finally making the eye contact that the old man had been trying for. He was more startled than anything else, not expecting the headmaster to mention Sirius' past so abruptly. "No," he said softly. "It's a hard class for me. I only have a background in _doing_ the dark arts, remember? In my situation, I never really had to defend against it."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense."

"I'm trying, though," Sirius broke in, suddenly worried that this was some sort of a test to see if he could stay. When the old man didn't really respond, the boy hesitantly asked, "So, was this what you called me here for? To ask about my classes?"

"No. Although I wish that were all it was," Dumbledore said suddenly seeming old and tired. "No, I have some information for you. About your last attack."

Sirius' eyes widened, and he swallowed the candy he'd been sucking on, almost choking. "What is it? Did you find the woman? Is she okay?"

Dumbledore's expression was all the answer Sirius needed, but the headmaster answered anyway. "Her name was Wendy Jenson, and she was found dead two days ago."

Sirius looked away, staring instead at the strange bird. So once again, his information had been useless. He wasn't sure how much longer he could take this. "Wendy Jenson?" he asked quietly. He knew that name… from somewhere. He shuddered. It was worse having a name to go with the death this time.

The headmaster nodded. "She was a muggle, but her husband is a muggle-born wizard, making her death more noticeable to the Ministry. This time they're planning on sending out some aurors to investigate. A terrible waste that it took her death for the Ministry to take this seriously." He paused, and Sirius could tell that the old man was watching his reaction. Finally Dumbledore continued. "The Ministry is afraid of being held personally responsible for this one. Wendy Jenson had been under Ministry protection until this year, when Minister Bagnold declared the family all clear, and sent her back to Surrey." The old man leaned forward on the desk. "Apparently, she was under protection because she claimed that one of the muggle killers had warned her about a threat to her and her son's life."

Sirius finally turned to look into the old man's knowing gaze as the familiarity of the name suddenly made sense. Jenson. It was the name of the mudblood family he'd been sent to kill. "That family…" he whispered. "That's the family I… Her husband works at the Ministry…"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. So, I was right. That story sounded strikingly like yours, and I suspected—"

"How is the boy?" Sirius asked. "She had a son. I was sent to… I was sent for both of them."

"He's fine," the headmaster replied. "He was visiting family at the time. The only one murdered was her." He cleared his throat. "I didn't just call you here to explain this, Sirius. There are some important implications that we need to discuss."

"Implications?"

The headmaster sighed. "Yes. This was the first time you ever mentioned anything about seeing the victim. Have you ever had a vision about them before?"

Sirius shook his head. "No."

"Then, this worries me," the old man said. "It seems that you're somehow connected to Voldemort. He isn't one to stop with something like this. I worry about the effect further attacks will have on you."

Startled, Sirius looked up to see the headmaster's pale blue eyes staring directly into his own.

Dumbledore continued. "Sirius, this is important. I want to help you, but I need to know all that I can about this. Do you have any idea as to how you gained this connection to him? Is there _anything_ that you want to tell me?"

Sirius looked down at the desk before quietly replying, "No." This wasn't something he was ready to talk about. In his mind's eye he could see the man who had been his father sending the death curse at him, and he unconsciously shuddered. No, this wasn't something he was even ready to think deeply about.

The headmaster sighed sadly. "I expected as much. If you remember anything at all, please tell me. It's the only way I can even try to help you."

Sirius nodded silently.

"Well," Dumbledore finally said after a moment of silence. "That is all. You may return to your class. I'm sure Professor McGonagall will be pleased that you didn't miss her entire lesson… And I'm sure Mr. Lupin will be happy to see you as well."

Sirius looked up at the old man and nodded shortly before standing and pushing in his chair.

"Thank you, Headmaster," he said softly before turning to leave.

He was at the door when the headmaster said his name again. "Sirius. Her death wasn't your fault. You did all that you could to save her. You are not part of him, and his actions do not reflect on you. Don't blame yourself."

Sirius froze, surprised at Dumbledore's accurate observation of him. Then, without turning around, Sirius quietly replied, "Yes, sir," before opening the door and leaving the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: As always, thank you for reading, please review, and keep your eyes open for Chapter 16: What It Means to Be Friends.


	17. What It Means to Be Friends

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 16—What It Means to be Friends**

Sirius was silent when he returned to class. He simply came in and sat down in his old seat behind Remus, dumping his bag onto the empty desk next to him. He sat there a moment, just gazing off into space, before he realized that people were staring at him, trying to figure out what was wrong. Overall, Sirius was relatively certain that they were hoping he'd done something to get expelled.

Remus turned when McGonagall wasn't looking and sent Sirius a funny look. He motioned to the seat next to him. Sirius just looked away, refusing to acknowledge him. He really wasn't in the mood to talk right now. His friend tried getting his attention a few more times before finally giving up, and turning around. Even McGonagall seemed to sense that something was wrong, and she left him alone for the most part, much to his surprise.

The thing was, _Sirius_ didn't even know why this was upsetting him so badly. It wasn't like this was the first time someone had been killed. And it wasn't just because he now had a face and a name to go with the knowledge of the death. Maybe it was the fact that even with a face, she'd still died. He rubbed his hand over his eyes, trying to block out the unpleasant images that threatened to overwhelm him. Memories of a past he was never going to escape. And, more horrifying to him, gaps in his memory when he had done things that maybe he shouldn't be allowed to escape from.

 _That_ was the real problem, he realized. That woman had been the one thing he'd ever done right before coming here. He'd saved some woman and her kid, and Voldemort had taken that from him, just as he'd taken everything else that had mattered. His eyes darkened. And just like he'd keep taking things. Maybe he never should have come here. Maybe he _was_ just putting everyone in danger. If Voldemort ever found him… If Voldemort found his _friends_ …

His thoughts were blessedly interrupted by the end of class. At least this was the last class of the day. He could just hole up in the library now and do his homework. He momentarily wondered if the house elves would know to bring his food in there like they used to. It had been awhile.

He was so lost in thought, he didn't notice Remus come up beside him, his amber eyes flashing in irritation. "What was that all about, Sirius?" he asked.

Sirius turned and blinked at him, startled. "Huh? Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't see you come up."

"Just like you didn't see me sitting in front of you?"

Sirius looked away. "Sorry."

They made their way down the hall in silence. A lot of Remus' anger seemed to go out of him when he saw how troubled the Slytherin was. "Are you okay, Sirius?"  
"I'm fine."

"I haven't seen you this upset in awhile. Was it—"

"I said I'm fine. Why don't you just leave me alone?"

Remus didn't back down. "That's not going to work on me, Sirius, and you know it. Maybe everyone else backs off when you go antisocial…" He sighed, letting the sentence trail off. Sirius wasn't really paying attention. "Fine," he said softly, trying a different tactic. "If you don't want to talk about it, I understand." They were approaching the stairway now, and would have to split up soon. Remus grabbed Sirius' sleeve, and gave it a quick tug to draw his attention.

The taller boy looked back at him silently.

Remus smiled at him. "Just remember, we're your friends, James and I. If you need to talk, we'll listen."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but Remus cut him off before he could say a word.

"James can't stay angry with you forever. He doesn't have a long enough attention span for that." With that, Remus walked up to the Ravenclaw common room, leaving Sirius to his thoughts.

Sirius sighed and shook his head, a faint smile sneaking onto his face as he made his way up to his own common room get his things.

* * *

The next few days were difficult. Sirius tried to fall back into his old routine, blocking everyone out, but for once it didn't work. After his first day of skipping dinner to go to the library, he'd gotten an earful from Remus. Even Sirius' protests that he'd fail his classes did no good. Remus had just shrugged and pointed out that if Sirius was going to skip meals, then he would, too. Sirius had tried to call his bluff, only to enter the library the following evening and find Remus at a table, waiting for him with his potions book opened. Now, they both spent mealtimes in the library, which helped to get the homework done, but generally meant that neither of them ate much, as the house elves only brought enough food for Sirius. He often had to pretend not to be hungry so his friend would eat more. Remus was beginning to look ill again. Sirius didn't want to be responsible for his friend's decline in health.

The Gryffindors were another awkward situation. He'd expected them to be angry with him for James' sake, and had been trying to avoid them. Arthur finally caught him coming out of the boy's lavatory before class. Sirius just braced himself, waiting for the anger and the insults.

"Where have you been?" Arthur asked, startling the dark haired boy. "You haven't been at supper in over a week. Andromeda has been having fits about it since she noticed. She thought you'd died or something until Lily told her you'd been in class." The redhead looked worried.

Sirius started dumbly at Arthur for a moment while the reality of the situation slowly sank in. They were wondering where he was? He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I—I've been trying to get my homework done between classes. You know… so I don't have to do it at night."

Arthur didn't look convinced. "Lily also said that you won't talk to anyone in class. Not even James. What's going on? Did you guys have a fight or something?"

Sirius didn't answer. He couldn't believe it. James hadn't told them? Sirius had been sure that he'd been telling everyone what a terrible person Sirius was. Why had James kept quiet?

Arthur misunderstood his silence. He raised his hands slightly in front of him. "Hey, I'm not trying to pry. It's just that some of us were worried, and we wanted to be sure that everything was okay. If you just had a fight with James, that's one thing, but…" Arthur looked away, clearly trying to find a way to voice the thoughts in his head. He cleared his throat and tried again. "We all know what sorts of people are in your house… not that you're all like that!" he added hastily. "It's just if they try anything… funny with you, especially Lucius and his crowd… well, you don't have to put up with it. That's all."

Again, Sirius just blinked at him. This had to be some kind of a weird dream. It couldn't be real. He seriously considered looking like an idiot and pinching himself.

Arthur smiled. "Anyway, we'd better get to our classes. I just wanted to make sure that everything was alright. That's all."

Sirius nodded. "Right. Thanks." He watched in quiet amazement as the seventh year walked down the hall. _Weird._

He quickly made his way to Charms, dropping into the seat next to Remus. He looked over at his friend, who was reading through his notes from Monday's class. "Weirdest thing just happened to me," he commented, tipping his seat backwards.

Remus hardly glanced up. "You're going to kill yourself doing that one of these days," he commented lightly. "You'll hit your head on the desk behind you and knock yourself silly."

"Already did that," he replied with a grin. "Sinistra just made me get a new chair. I blamed James for trying to give me a concussion." The mention of Potter's name reminded him of his previous conversation. "But seriously, you've got to hear this," he said, tipping his chair forward onto four legs. He described his conversation with Arthur.

When he was done, he just sat back and waited for Remus' reaction. The pale boy raised his eyebrows and smiled very faintly. "What's so weird about that? They're your friends, too. Of course they're worried. With you on the bad side of people like Snape and Lucius, it's no wonder they'd worry when you're missing." He turned back to his notes.

Sirius shook his head, frustrated. "I don't get it," he finally said.

Remus glanced up. "Don't get what?"

Sirius stared at him, frustrated. "Why? Why should they care? What makes you think they actually care?"

Remus furrowed his brow. "Shouldn't they?"

"No," Sirius said exasperated. "What kind of world do you people think you live in? You're all so busy watching everyone else's back. Who's watching yours? Who's worrying about you while you skip meals because of me? Who's worrying about Andromeda while she's panicking because I disappear for a little while?"

"You are," Remus said quietly. "You're doing it right now. That's what friends are for. You watch each other's backs, so you don't have to constantly protect yourself." He looked closely at Sirius, really getting it for the first time. "You've really never had any friends before, have you?" he asked with some surprise.

"I already told you that." His voice was cold and flat.

The boy nodded, running his hand through his shaggy brown hair. "I know. I just thought you meant _here_. I didn't think you really meant that we were your _first_ friends ever." Then another thought seemed to strike him. "What about your family?"

"What about them?" He hadn't meant to sound so aggressive, but Sirius didn't like where this was leading at all.

"Well, they're like your friends, right. I mean, it's different, but in some ways it's an even stronger bond. That's how I am with my father, anyway. We'd do anything for each other. You must have—"

"I don't want to talk about him," Sirius said abruptly, shooting a sharp look at Remus, and closing off the topic for discussion.

The Ravenclaw didn't flinch, but he did finally fall silent.

"And stop looking at me like that," Sirius added. He dug out his own notes and began looking them over. He was already regretting having brought the subject up. It was just weird to him that they didn't all hate him. That was all. He was used to everyone hating him. And he didn't particularly like change, even if it was for the better. Changing things had always wound up worse for him in the end.

They were silent for a moment as the last few stragglers made their way into class. Flitwick was up at the front of the room, organizing papers on his desk. Remus had finally put his old notes away and was trying to dig his heavy charms text out of his bag. He was struggling with the huge book.

Sirius watched from the corner of his eye as his friend finally hauled the book clear of the bag. Remus was starting to look sick again. He was getting too thin, and as far as Sirius could tell, was struggling far worse over little things like his stupid textbook.

He took a deep breath. Maybe now was the time to ask him about that. "Remus—" he started, but even before his friend could look at him, Flitwick began class, effectively cutting that conversation off.

By the time class had ended, Sirius had once again lost his nerve.

* * *

Astronomy had become Sirius' worst class again. He could avoid James anywhere else, but Sinistra seemed to have made it his goal this year to make Sirius' life a living hell. Part of this was clear when he refused to allow Sirius to change partners. But his new plan was worse. It apparently involved circling around Sirius with this irritatingly patronizing look on his face, as though he actually cared that Sirius hated his class and was probably going to fail without his partner's help. Then he would constantly force him to speak with James.

Although Sirius had to admit, their conversations were fascinating. He hadn't been aware until recently that two people could hold hour-long monosyllabic conversations prompted only by the mad circling of a very twisted little man. By the end of class, Sirius was starting to wonder if it would be considered dark magic if he used the leg lock spell on Sinistra during one of his passes. Probably. There was definite malicious intent involved. Then again, he was sure the rest of the class would back him that it had been self defense. If that man circled one more time, Sirius was going to go crazy.

Apparently he wasn't the only one.

"Someone needs to talk to Pomphrey about sedating him," James muttered, shooting a glare at Sinistra, who was wandering away after poking his face into their star maps for the tenth time.

"No good," Sirius growled back. "She doesn't deal with mental cases."

"It's not considered a physical problem that he can't sit still for three consecutive seconds?"

"Sorry, no," the Slytherin said. "That's called sugar and caffine. The man shouldn't be allowed to drink coffee."

"Too bad."

Sirius smirked. "Maybe if we slipped him some sleeping potion."

James chuckled. "He probably sleepwalks."

"Walking circles with his eyes closed," Sirius mused. "You're right. Amusing, but potentially hazardous. He could fall out a window that way."

"That would wind him in the hospital ward."

"Massively sedated," Sirius mused.

"Can we get our hands on one?" James asked.

The boys muffled their laughter as Sinistra swept by again. It was almost like before the fight. Then, it seemed at the same moment they realized that they'd been speaking to each other and fell silent, not saying another word until class had ended and Sinistra had sailed out of the room ahead of the students.

It was James who finally spoke as they gathered their things. "So, are you ready for the potions exam tomorrow?"

Sirius glanced up after quickly finishing up the zodiac line, and slipping the map into his bag. "It's a practical exam. It won't be bad. Why?"

James shrugged, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I was just asking. Why do you always have to sound so suspicious?"

"Why are you suddenly willing to talk to me a day before the potions exam?"

James' hazel eyes grew cold. "I'm not trying to use you to pass the exam if that's what you mean," he snapped. "I just thought this fight had gone on long enough. That's all, okay?"

"Fine."

James glared at him. "God, Black, you're impossible. You don't actually _want_ to have any friends, do you? You just want to be the dark, mysterious Slytherin that no one can understand. All isolated in your own little shell."

"Shut up, James."

"No. You know, there are people out there worse off than you, so you can stop feeling sorry for yourself…"

"Feeling _sorry_ for myself?" Sirius growled. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about, Potter. You're so busy being self-righteous that you don't even notice when people are hurting right in front of you." His look was poisonous. "Before you start calling me selfish, why don't you take a look in the mirror." He tossed his quill into his bag and clasped it shut, slipping the green strap over his shoulder.

"What are you talking about?"

Sirius shook his head, disgusted. "That's what I mean. You have eyes, but you don't use them."

"You're not making any sense!"

"Remus, you git," Sirius said. "I'm talking about our friend, whom you've known longer than I have. He's sick or something, and he's only getting worse. How can you not see that?"

He ignored James' stricken expression and went on, allowing real emotion to leak out for a moment as his worries were finally voiced. "He doesn't just take off because his mum's sick. There's more to it than that. He gets worn out just before he leaves, and he's a wreck every time he gets back."

"He's worried about her!" James broke in. "Remus is sensitive. He doesn't eat or sleep right when he's worrying. You don't know him."

"No, James. _You_ don't know him. He's fading in front of your eyes, and you're just ignoring it. It could be serious. He could be _dying_."

There he'd said it. For the first time, he'd said it out loud.

"No." James' voice was frigid. "You're sick, Black."

Before Sirius could say another word, James had slung his bag over his shoulder and stormed out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thanks for reading. Please review! And keep your eyes open for Chapter 17: Catalyst!


	18. Catalyst

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 17-Catalyst**

Sirius slunk into potions class the following day, exhausted. He'd been up most of the night working on the basic lab that was due when they began their tests. Then, after finally finishing most of it, he'd wandered away to get some fresh dittany only to find that two of his vials were missing. There were times he really hated being forced to do work in the Slytherin common room. But he hadn't much of a choice. It wasn't as though he'd be allowed to use a lit cauldron in the library. He'd wound up spending half an hour looking for his missing potions, and then when he didn't find them, had to spend another hour rebrewing them. Luckily this was one of his best classes, because he was so tired right now, he was going to have to be working automatically for a lot of it.

Potter was already in class setting up when he got there. Both boys pointedly ignored each other. It was a good thing that today was a test day. No risk of Nocturna making them work in pairs. Sirius sighed, taking his seat, and digging for a good quill. As much as he hated to admit it, James had been right yesterday. It was time for this fight to end. But honestly, Sirius was afraid to back down. He was afraid to look weak. Like he was easy to control. Sirius wasn't sure if he could handle that feeling again. Just thinking about it made him sick to his stomach.

Snape slipped into the class, sending him a smug look. Sirius scowled and went back to his quest for a working quill. He had no doubts as to who stole his lab work last night, and he had no interest in dealing with Snape right at the moment. He finally found a good quill and yanked it out, slamming it onto his desk. Next, he pulled out some ink and fresh parchment for the written portion of the exam. Sirius then walked to the shelf at the back of the room and got some extra vials. Thank god he had this exam to take his mind off of the real world for a while.

By the time Nocturna entered the room, most of the class was ready and waiting. She swept through the door with her usual cold smile and a stack of exams in her arms. "All notes away," she announced sharply. "If I see any out during this exam, you will receive no credit. If I hear any talking while the exams are out, you'll receive a detention as well. Is that understood?"

Several of the students nodded. Many were too afraid to do even that.

Her silver eyes scanned the students. "Good. Have your lab results on the end of your table, and I'll collect them when I come around." With that, she began moving about the silent room, handing out exams.

Sirius sighed, waiting for her to reach the back of the room where he sat. His eyes scanned the people, and he smirked a little at how afraid some of them looked. This wasn't even a difficult chapter. Poisons and antidotes. That's really all it was. Honestly, _James_ probably could pass even without having had his help.

At that thought, Sirius glanced over at Potter. James was one of the scared ones. Sirius could tell, even though he was masking his worry nicely. James had an irritating habit of tapping the end of his quill on his inkbottle when he was nervous. The Slytherin stifled a chuckle. And it looked like the tapping was already driving Snape, who was seated next to James, crazy.

He didn't get a chance to think much about it, as an exam was suddenly dropped on his desk. Moments later, Nocturna announced, "You may begin."

There was a rustling sound as everyone flipped over their papers and began working. The exam wasn't bad. Sirius breezed through the written portion. Most of that was just identifying antidotes by their ingredients, and poisons by the symptoms. There were a few trickier questions about who had discovered the antidotes, and an essay on what a bezoar did and how one could be acquired. But that was it.

The toughest part was the practical portion. A few of the poisons they were supposed to nullify were very complicated, and were difficult to break down into components. To make matters worse, Sirius couldn't help but remember the disaster that had occurred last time he'd tried to make antidotes in this class. Of course, Snape wasn't allowed out of his seat this time, so nothing should go wrong.

Nothing did until the very end of class. Several students, James among them, were still frantically trying to put together the last of their potions, so they could finish up. Sirius was already writing down his results, when there was an explosion from nearby. He glanced sharply to his left only to find James staring helplessly, eyes wide, at his potion as smoke billowed out of it. A fair amount of it had already splashed onto the desk and floor around him. Sirius noted with relief that this time at least, James seemed to have enough common sense not to touch it. The rest of the students had already backed away.

Forgetting their fight for a moment, Sirius asked, "What did you put in it?"

"Nothing!" the Gryffindor replied.

"No talking," Nocturna snapped, finally approaching. She sniffed the air a few times as she neared, and froze. "Everyone out of the room," she announced. "Get into the hallway in an orderly fashion. Go."

The class immediately emptied as students filed out the door. Sirius didn't move, sending a look of concern at James. The boy was starting to look a bit pale. He didn't get a chance to check on him, though. Nocturna forcefully grabbed Sirius by his shoulder and pulled him away. "Move, you two," she snapped, grabbing James next.

When they were safely in the hall, she took Sirius by the chin, looking closely at him. She shined her lit wand in his eyes, causing him to blink and look away. He must have passed her examination, because she snorted at him and turned to Snape and James, doing the same thing.

Finally satisfied, she turned to her class. "Go to lunch. I will collect your exams as soon as the air clears in the room. I don't want any horseplay in the halls. You can return for your bags before your next class. Now go."

As the students began walking down the hall, she added, "Except for Mr. Snape, Mr. Black and Mr. Potter."

Snape and Sirius both sent startled looks at the professor. James was holding onto the wall, and really didn't look like he was in any shape to question her.

Her eyes were hard. "You three were nearest to that potion. I'm taking you down to Madame Pomphrey to be sure that you're alright. Come on." She began walking. "Mr. Black, help Mr. Potter along."

Sirius nodded and half-supported James on his way down the hall.

Snape said nothing, silently following.

* * *

The trip to the hospital wing was uneventful, except for the fact that James was progressively getting worse. When they entered the ward, Nocturna immediately found the nurse, explaining the situation. Sirius cringed, waiting for Pomphrey to yell at him, but to his surprise, she didn't. Although she did send him a sharp look, making it clear that he would be going through the full regimen of tests once again. Likely the only reason she didn't pounce him immediately was because he was now pretty much holding James up.

She immediately went to work, asking Nocturna a number of questions to determine what had happened, and finally asking James a few as well. As soon as she figured out what the problem was, she dragged him into the quarantine room for privacy and went to work setting up an antidote. After making sure that Potter was going to live, Nocturna left to see if her classroom had aired out yet, leaving Snape and Sirius alone to ignore each other.

Sirius paced by the door. James had been in bad shape, and Sirius was starting to worry that the nurse may have gotten to him too late. If it was a strong enough poison, it was possible that the antidote wouldn't work after too much time passed. All sorts of crazy thoughts were running through his head. _"What if he dies? It'll be my fault. He wouldn't have screwed that up if I'd have just helped him study."_

"Will you stop pacing, Black. It's irritating," Snape growled.

"Shut up," Sirius replied.

" _He's going to die hating me. And next will be Remus. And that's it. I'll be alone again."_ He finally stopped pacing long enough to grab a bottle of Skele-gro off of a nearby shelf and throw it at the wall in a fit of frustration. The bottle made a satisfying crash as it shattered, spraying medicine across the wall and floor.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm sure that helped. Would you like to throw any other medicines? Maybe you can mix your own concoction and get _us_ poisoned while we wait."

Sirius didn't even answer, but the look he sent Snape was poison enough, and the other Slytherin fell silent.

Both boys were sitting quietly on opposite sides of the room by the time Pomphrey got back. Snape just looked bored. Sirius on the other hand, stood up as soon as he saw her and came forward. "Is he going to be alright?"

Pomphrey glanced at her shattered bottle of medicine near the far wall and raised an eyebrow. "I see your temper hasn't improved any, Mr. Black. I'm going to start charging you for the things you waste."

Sirius ignored her and repeated his question. "Is he going to be okay?"

She snorted and pulled her wand out of her apron pocket. "Of course he is, Mr. Black," she replied, swishing the wand, and sending the broken glass to a garbage can in the corner. "You can scrub that wall clean while I check out your friend."

Sirius' eyes flashed dangerously as he shot a hateful look at Snape. "He's not my friend." His voice was cold and dark. Before she could respond, he walked away to clean up. He could hear her sigh as she pulled Snape aside.

By the time Sirius was done, Snape was on his way to his next class, and Pomphrey was waiting. He strode over and sat stiffly down. "Let's get this over with," he muttered.

"Do you know what your problem is, Mr. Black?" she asked, shining light in his eyes as Nocturna had.

"My heart?" he replied in annoyance.

"No, Mr. Black. Your heart I could deal with. It's your attitude." She grabbed his arm and tried to prick him for a drop of blood. "You don't care what happens to you."

"What?" Sirius exclaimed, outraged, pulling his arm back. "You're saying you think it's my fault that the kid next to me screwed up his potion? I didn't _ask_ James to poison the class."

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it," she snapped, grabbing his arm again, and holding it firmly. "Now stop squirming. I need to see if the poison's in your system." This time she managed to get her blood sample.

"What are you talking about then?"

She turned away, dropping his blood into a small potion she had prepared on the desk beside her. "You're a good boy. As much as you seem to want us to think otherwise, I know that. But I'm afraid you're going to kill yourself one of these days. You may not like it, but you're sick. You can't take the strain you put on your body. Not just physically, but emotionally as well."

He scowled, rubbing his sore arm. "Will you just leave me alone? You give me this lecture every time I come in here. One of these days I'm just not going to come."

She sighed, and set the beaker down as the potion suddenly turned green. "I know," she said gently. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Before Sirius had a chance to answer that, Nocturna reentered the room, a peculiar expression on her face. Both the nurse and her patient looked up in surprise.

The deputy headmistress nodded politely to Pomphrey, but the look she sent to Sirius was harsh. "I need to speak with Mr. Black."

The nurse bristled a bit. "He'll come when he's ready. Checking _him_ is more complicated than the rest."

The professor's silver eyes narrowed. "He'll come within fifteen minutes. Check him quickly and send him to my office." She turned and walked away.

Before she could make it to the door, Sirius asked tentatively, "Professor… have I done something wrong? What do you need to talk to me about?"

She froze and shot one cold look at him. "We need to discuss your addition to Mr. Potter's potion." With that, Nocturna left them in stunned silence.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Sirius hesitantly knocked on the potion mistress' door. He cringed when he heard her sharp, "Come in." Quickly, he opened the door and stepped in, shutting it behind him.

Nocturna sat at a table, grading exams with an irritated look on her face. Sirius sincerely hoped she wasn't going to be grading his for awhile. At the sound of the door closing, she looked up. "Sit," was all she said.

He sat in the oak chair across from her. It was hard and uncomfortable, but he didn't think he'd be comfortable anywhere in the room right now. Of all his professors, Nocturna had never really been angry with him before, seeming to understand him to at least some degree. He couldn't understand why now of all times, she'd accuse him of something like this.

She finished grading the paper she was working on, forcing him to sit in uncomfortable silence for a few more minutes before she finally looked up again. For the first time, Sirius realized that she looked tired. She carefully set the papers to the side, and laid her quill on top of them. "Why did you do it, Sirius?" she asked in a soft voice, heavy with disappointment. "I thought better of you."

Sirius just shook his head at her. "I-I'm sorry professor, but I don't understand. _What_ exactly did I do?"

Her tired eyes hardened, giving her an icy look, and succeeding in scaring Sirius even more. "You added a potion to Mr. Potter's cauldron." She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes, and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Any other student… _any_ of them, and I would have thought it was a little prank. They wouldn't have known what that combination made. But I know you. I've seen your work. You're honestly the best I've seen in almost twenty years. And I can't believe that you didn't know what that combination would do when you added it."

Sirius sat in stunned silence, his head spinning from all of this. Finally, after trying to sort this all out in his head, Sirius tried again. "Professor Nocturna, I honestly don't know what you're talking about."

She looked sharply up at him in anger, but before she could speak he went on.

"I swear. I don't. I thought Potter just screwed up on his potion. I didn't even know what he made. I was trying to get him to tell me what happened when you made us leave class." He could see her expression waver a little. Like she wanted to believe him, but just couldn't. "I'm serious. I never touched his potion. I wouldn't do that to him. I wouldn't even do that to _Malfoy,_ and I have good reason to do it to him." Sirius stopped, realizing what he'd just said.

Luckily, Nocturna seemed to find amusement in that comment and her lips twitched as she forced down a smile. "I'd like to believe you, but I can't. Everything's stacked against you. I'm going to have to tell the headmaster about this. I only wanted to give you the chance to confess to it first."

"Wait!" Sirius cut in desperately.

She paused.

"I didn't do it. On my life, I didn't do it. Make a truth serum. You know I can't lie if you give me that. I'll take it. My answer won't change." He didn't mean to sound so desperate, but he'd take anything to keep this from getting to Dumbledore. Sirius would be expelled for sure…

"You would take veritaserum?" she asked slowly

He closed his eyes. "Yes," he whispered. He could only hope that she confined her questions to school. If his home life came up…

After a thoughtful silence, Nocturna finally said quietly, "That won't be necessary, Mr. Black."

He blinked his eyes open as she continued.

"I believe you. I don't know how it's possible, but… I believe you."

Sirius tried not to let the relief show on his face. "Thank you." Then another thought struck him. "Er—if you don't mind… what made you think that _I_ tampered with James' cauldron?"

"Your signature."

"What?"

She sighed, sounding a bit disgusted. "No one really understands potion making anymore. They all just think that how your potion turns out depends on mixing ingredients. But that's only half of it. A wizard puts a part of himself into every potion he makes. Every wizard has their own unique aura of magic. It is this aura that muggles lack. When you brew a potion, you put some of this power into it, adding to or detracting from the potion's overall strength. This part of you… this _signature_ … is what a skilled wizard uses to identify the brewer of a potion."

"And my signature was in James' potion?"

She nodded. "Yes. Yours and his."

Sirius shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense."

"No, it doesn't. And because of this, you'll understand why I'm going to put you on probation. I believe that you're telling me the truth, so I won't tell the headmaster about this. But for the safety of my students, whether or not I believe you, I need to be sure that you _aren't_ tampering. You will be staying through lunch for the remainder of the semester, doing all lab work alone inside of my classroom where I can keep an eye on you. Is that understood?"

Sirius nodded. It was only a week until Christmas break. All that meant was he couldn't get help from Remus for awhile. He'd survive.

"Good. I'm glad we got that settled. I'd rather not have to believe any of that nonsense about your troublemaking streak. That is all." She picked up her quill, and pulled some parchment from the shelf beside her, scratching down a quick note, which she handed to Sirius. "Give that to your professor, so Slytherin won't lose any points for you entering class late. Your bag is still in my classroom."

"Thank you," Sirius said, taking the note.

"No, thank you."

He stared at her. "For what?"

She finally smiled at him. "For being the person I thought you were, and not the one I was told to expect."

Sirius didn't know what to say, so he just left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thanks for reading, and please review!


	19. Hanged Man

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 18—Hanged Man**

James wasn't in class the next day, so Sirius was forced to try and carry both of them in astronomy. Not a particularly pleasant experience. It was just lucky that most of the period had wound up being lecture. Well… if one could call that luck. Sirius stifled a yawn as Sinistra continued his rather sporadic discussion of red giants interspersed with random personal stories that had nothing to do with stars. Sirius scribbled down a few notes, hoping that James would be able to make some sense out of this stuff. Because Sirius certainly didn't know what any of it was about.

Dwarfs and giants… sounded more like stuff from his history of magic class. Black holes he'd heard of. They were big dark splotches in space with so much gravity that even light couldn't get by.

Easy enough to remember. Voldemort was a black hole. Everything was drawn to him. And then it was all destroyed. Simple.

Out of boredom, he'd taken to doodling on his notes again. Lucky for him, when Sinistra got going on a lecture, he stopped paying attention to his students. This time, Sirius had scribbled a huge black hole. He'd even given it red eyes, so it could see its prey. Then he'd added planets and stars all around it, getting pulled in. He hadn't even realized at first that his stars were grouped into constellations until he suddenly noticed that he'd put Canis Major a little too close to the black hole.

The Slytherin smirked darkly. Oops. Big surprise. The dogstar had already been pulled most of the way in. He sighed, trying to think of other constellations he could draw. The picture looked a little bare. Leo would be easy. It was kind of a question mark and a triangle. He drew that a distance away from the black hole. The lion made him think of Gryffindor. He didn't think they should get pulled in. But Draco, the big dragon… that one was practically surrounding the dark spot. What could represent Slytherin better than that? He double checked his text, just to be sure he'd drawn it right.

What next? He looked at his drawing critically. It didn't really seem fair that the black hole was taking up so much of the picture. And the other two houses were missing. He snorted. Not that he really needed to add Hufflepuff, but Lupin at least deserved to be in there somewhere. Sirius eyed his star chart, unsure of what constellation to use. Maybe just Gemini. It didn't really mean much for Ravenclaw, but Lupin kind of seemed like a Gemini. He was like another person when he was sick… different, but still the same. Sirius stuck that near Leo. Then he frowned, scribbling it out, and putting it a little closer to the black hole. He wanted Lupin to be out of range, but still… Remus was one of the only people he knew who would probably try to drag _him_ out.

He sighed, frustrated. Okay, so James probably would, too. But Sirius couldn't honestly move _all_ of Gryffindor closer. Leo had to stay. Then a wicked smile lit his face and he looked up another constellation, and drew it next to Gemini. Sirius snickered. Yeah, that was perfect. Taurus, the bull. Because no one was as stubborn as Potter. He added Virgo for Lily, and a fuzzy little scribble that was supposed to be the Andromeda galaxy.

That looked good. It was almost like there was an army facing Voldemort now. Not just he and Dumbledore struggling alone. The picture took up most of his parchment, overshadowing even the words. Not that he'd written many. Hopefully none of that lecture's notes were important, because all he had written down was:

Black hole-space where star was, heavy gravity that sucks things in

Red giant-big red star

White dwarf-little white star

Who the hell comes up with these names?

Sirius had a funny feeling that James would kill him if that wound up being all he had. He considered actually reading the text and jotting down a few extra notes from there. Might put him back into James' good graces so they could forget all about this stupid fight. Until then, Sirius tried to put his mind to following the lecture. He only had fifteen minutes left of class, but maybe he could find something worth writing down.

* * *

Sirius walked out into the nearly empty hall. He'd stayed after class for a little while, taking some notes out of the text for James, and recopying the lecture notes to spare his friend the rather elaborate picture of the psychotic black hole. Sirius had an alternate purpose as well. He wanted to avoid Snape for the time being. The greasy git had been sending him smug looks all day, and he had no idea why. Sirius was honestly afraid he was going to snap and strangle his housemate.

His footsteps echoed down the halls as he walked to the common room. Sirius turned the corner and was surprised to find Remus sitting just outside of Slytherin house, reading a book.

"Remus?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

Remus looked up, startled. When he saw Sirius, he snapped his book shut and smiled a little nervously, standing up. "Sirius. Where have you been? I've been here for over ten minutes. I was starting to worry."

Sirius laughed a little. "I'd have been here sooner if I knew you were staking out my common room." His expression turned serious when he noticed his friend's distracted smile. Something wasn't right. "Is something the matter, Remus?"

His friend's amber eyes darkened. "We need to talk."

Sirius nodded slowly, an uncomfortable knot tightening in his stomach. "Alright," he replied. "But not out here. Let's go inside."

Remus' eyes widened. "You mean in the _Slytherin_ house? Are you crazy?" he hissed. "They'll kill me in there."

Sirius smirked. "You make us sound like a pack of rabid wolves."

To the Slytherin's surprise, Remus flinched. "I didn't mean it that way," he muttered.

"I know," Sirius replied quickly. "Sorry, I was just trying to kid with you. Lighten things up, you know? Honestly, though. They'll all be at supper, so we're better off talking in there. I'll even go in first and check."

The Ravenclaw didn't seem convinced, but he didn't argue further either. "Fine."

Sirius nodded, feeding the password to the statue. "Hanged man." The gargoyle slowly slid aside, scratching stone against stone as it moved.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "That's pleasant."

Sirius shrugged. "Don't look at me. It's not like _I_ pick the password. Yell at the gargoyle."

The door swung open, then, effectively cutting off their conversation, and Sirius stepped in, looking around. The common room was empty. He even risked checking both the boys' _and_ girls' dorms. Finally, after he was sure they were safe, Sirius poked his head back out the door. "Right. We're all clear. Come on in before someone sees you."

Remus quickly stepped inside, and the door swung shut behind him. He was looking around the room silently as Sirius flung his bag down on the heavy mahogany table and threw himself onto a large, elaborate couch. "Pick a seat," he said motioning grandly at a few chairs. "I would suggest not picking the fancy ones. Those tend to be the least comfortable."

Remus tested the cushion of a dark green velvet chair. "I see what you mean," he commented. "Like a rock."

"The armchair's not bad," Sirius suggested.

Remus sat and smiled stiffly. "It's hard to imagine anyone actually being _comfortable_ in here. It's like a tomb."

Sirius shrugged. "It's okay. I mean, I've lived in worse. You should have seen what my parents' house was like. I swear the portraits _glared_ at you when you walked by. And our house elf hated me. _My_ room was probably the cheeriest, and everything in it was so dark and heavy, I felt like I was going to be smothered…"

Remus was just staring at him. "I didn't realize…" he flushed. "I mean, you never mentioned your home before. It sounds… well…"

"Horrible," Sirius said shortly. "I don't miss it, and I'd rather not talk about it. I shouldn't have brought it up." The Slytherin glanced around the room, unable to make eye contact. "So, what's the problem?" he asked finally, changing the subject. "I was thinking of dropping some notes for James before lunch… not that I don't like sitting here chatting…" He shrugged.

Remus winced and shook his head. "Erm, Sirius… I wouldn't suggest seeing James right now…"

"What? Why? Has something happened?"

Sirius' anxiety oddly seemed to relax Remus a bit, and the Ravenclaw finally released his deathgrip on the chair's arms, and leaned back a little. "I guess I should get right to the point." He took a deep breath. "What exactly happened to James yesterday? Because there are rumors flying around that you tried to poison him."

Sirius sat bolt upright. " _What?_ " he exclaimed.

"I didn't think it was true," Remus cut in quickly. "And I'm not even sure that _James_ would if he heard them… but that's all anyone was talking about last hour. I thought it was better if you heard it from me."

"What the _hell_?" Sirius snapped. He stood up and began pacing, feeling the rage building inside of him, and trying unsuccessfully to force it back down.

"Relax, Sirius," Remus said quietly, looking worried. "Getting angry isn't going to fix this."

The Slytherin shook his head. " _Nothing_ is going to fix this. This is just how it is. Something bad happens and I get blamed. Why this time? Because I was sitting next to him? Because we had a fight?"

"Sirius—"

He forcefully shoved a chair out of the way, knocking it to the floor. "They're never going to see me as anything but some kind of nut, are they?"

"Sirius, I—"

"I'm not some pawn that people can use to put their blame on! I'm not in that anymore! That's why I came here, so I wouldn't have to _do_ that again." He stood at the window, looking out, but not really seeing anything. "I didn't try to kill anyone," he said softly. But there were images in his mind now. It was almost as though his rage had opened something. Like he was suddenly seeing hell. Flashes of green followed by screams. There was a body in front of him, but who was she? Who had killed her? Surely not… He shuddered involuntarily. "I didn't kill her," he whispered, almost as though comforting himself. "I couldn't have…" He leaned his forehead against a pane of the window.

"Sirius." Remus sounded so far away. "What are you talking about? Sirius?"

But the Slytherin couldn't focus on the voice. It was just another sound fighting its way through the screams. He shuddered again. And the howls. He'd had the werewolves with him that night. No. This couldn't be real. It had to be some kind of waking nightmare.

There was suddenly a hand on his shoulder, and Sirius flinched as though burnt. But finally Remus' voice broke through the chaos of his mind, and Sirius was pulled back from hell.

"Sirius?" The Ravenclaw sounded worried and a little frightened.

"I'm fine," Sirius replied, softly. "I… it's just been a long week."

"You said something about not killing her. Who?"

"Forget it."

Remus paused, a little hurt by the abruptness in Sirius' voice. "Are you alright?"

"I said forget it," the taller boy snapped, brushing Remus' hand from his shoulder and stalking over to the sofa. He sat back down and held his head in his hands.

Remus didn't respond, instead walking back to the armchair and dropping down into it. "I'm not blaming you for what happened to James," he said softly.

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"I know, Remus."

They were quiet for a long time before Remus finally risked speaking again, trying to get back onto the original subject. "What's a potion signature?"

Sirius looked up in surprise, still a little pale. "What?"

"A potion signature. I never heard of one before, but…" He trailed off.

"It's a magical marker of who brewed a potion. Why?"

Remus looked away. "They think it's you, because supposedly your signature was in the potion."

"How would they know that? Nocturna and I were the only two who knew that."

"You mean it _was_ your signature?"

"Yeah," Sirius growled. "And neither of us knows how." His brow furrowed, and he looked tired and frustrated. "It just doesn't make any sense. I would actually have had to _brew_ something to—" He froze as things suddenly began to fall into place. "Shit. That _bastard_."

"What?"

Sirius' eyes darkened. "Snape. Some of my lab potions were stolen the night before the exam. And he was sitting on James' other side." His eyes were almost on fire. "My signature would have already been on those potions he stole, so of course it would have wound up in James' potion."

"We can tell Professor Nocturna, then," Remus suggested.

"No," Sirius muttered. "She won't listen. I don't have any proof." His eyes darkened. "I'll deal with Snape myself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thanks for reading. Please review. And I'll hopefully have an update for you soon! Bye!


	20. The True Shape of Courage

**Chapter 19-The True Shape of Courage**

James was back in class the next day, but apparently he didn't share the same faith in his friend as Remus had. Or maybe it was just the fight still talking. Sirius wasn't sure, but somehow the rumors that _he_ had tried to poison James had reached the Gryffindor's ears. And judging by the cold look he sent Sirius during breakfast, there was no doubt in the Slytherin's mind as to who Potter believed.

Sirius sighed miserably. Of course this would happen. He was finally ready to drop this stupid argument and something had to come along and screw it all up. He almost hoped he _wouldn't_ run into Snape right away. He didn't trust his own self control. And he didn't think he'd be able to explain hexing his housemate in the hall.

He'd spent most of his flying class listening to the Hufflepuffs gossip about him, and dealing with almost everyone from both houses pointedly avoiding him. He felt like he had the plague or something. No, more like he _was_ the plague. It had been a relief to get back into the building and make his way to potions. Sure, he'd have to deal with James and the rest of the Gryffindors, but at least they weren't a bunch of gossips. And honestly, the Gryffindors didn't treat him very badly, even now.

Worse, his scar was starting to hurt him again, but this time he'd decided he was going to ignore it. He was tired of unexplainable absences. And it wasn't like his information did any good, anyway. He could ignore this one. It wasn't like it was really his heart. Anyway, how was he supposed to defend himself if he wasn't even in class?

He'd just entered the room when Lily pounced him, worry written all over her face. He wasn't surprised that she'd be the first to meet him. For some reason that was a comfort. She was willing to risk her reputation for his sake. He flashed one of his rare smiles at her. "Hello."

"Sirius! We need to talk."

His smile faltered at her look of concern. _What was wrong? This didn't seem like her usual concern about people gossiping about him._ He glanced around the room. Nocturna wasn't there yet. "Why don't we go in the hall?" he asked quietly.

She nodded.

When they were both safely away from the door and prying eyes, he turned back to the worried redhead. "Lily, what's the matter? You haven't looked this upset in a long time. This isn't about James, is it? I swear I didn't do it. I was set up."

"Sirius, I think your house is up to something," she blurted out. "I don't know what, but something weird is going on. First James is attacked, and I _know_ that wasn't you. And now..." She trailed off, shaking her head. She leaned against the cold stone wall, trying to sort out her thoughts. "I don't know what happened. "I was coming from my charms class, and I had to pass by Meadows' office... I saw Professor Nocturna dragging Lucius Malfoy out of there. They were talking, and she looked _angry_. I think... I think he was tampering with something."

Sirius looked surprised. "Tampering? With what?"

"I don't know. Meadows keeps lots of stuff in there. I had to go in his office to borrow a text before, and he's got more stuff in there than he has in his classroom. Malfoy could have been messing with _anything_. What else would he have been in there for?" She glanced away. "Anyway, I was worried about you, so I thought I should warn you." She blushed. "I mean, isn't it awfully convenient that they're all blaming _you_ for what happened to James, when we all know that Snape was sitting on James' other side? And now this, a couple of hours before you have Meadows' class. I think your house has it in for you."

Sirius sighed, running his hand through his long black hair. "They've had it in for me for months now," he muttered. "Knowing Lucius, he re-calibrated all of my equipment. Meadows was just saying last class that he stores our stuff in his office, so no one will mess with it. I'll check it out as soon as I get in there."

Lily nodded. "Good."

Sirius didn't answer, feeling another sharp pain. He grimaced a little, leaning back against the wall and rubbing his chest.

The redhead's eyes suddenly flashed with concern as she recognized his symptoms. "Sirius?" she asked, worriedly. "Are you alright? Do you need to go to-"

She was cut short by a sharp voice behind them. "Am I to take it that _both_ Gryffindor _and_ Slytherin would like me to take points from their houses for loitering in the hall?"

The students turned to see Nocturna glaring sourly at them. Lily was right. She seemed to be upset. Not much of a surprise. He wouldn't have wanted to be Lucius getting caught by _her_ of all people.

"No, professor," Lily murmured, shooting Sirius another concerned look.. "I'm sorry."

Sirius just nodded in agreement. "Sorry." He straightened up as though nothing were wrong.

"Then get into the classroom before I change my mind about letting you off."

They hurried into the room. As soon as they were inside, Sirius took off to his seat, so he wouldn't have to answer any of Lily's questions about his health.

Sirius spent a fair portion of the class period torn between trying to get James to speak with him, and trying to figure out what Lucius could have possibly messed with in Meadows' office. He finally wound up just thinking about Lucius, since James refused to even make eye contact with him.

It was a relief when class ended, and he could focus on doing his lab work during his lunch period. His turbulent mind was allowed a short rest. Nocturna left him to his own devices, apparently lost in her own thoughts. As soon as his work was done, and Sirius had scribbled out his results, he scooped up his things, turned in his work, and sprinted out the door. Lunch was just about over, and he wanted to be the first one in Defense Against the Dark Arts, so he'd have time to recalibrate his instruments if necessary.

He arrived at the classroom in record time. The only other person in the room when he arrived was Professor Meadows himself.

The older man glanced up and smiled when he saw Sirius drop his bag into his seat. "Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise," Meadows commented, grinning. "I should mark today on my calendar. The day Sirius Black decided to show up for my class on time."

Sirius didn't respond to that, instead staring blankly at the empty shelves where their equipment was usually located. Granted, they didn't use it much. It was only for studying small, relatively harmless magical creatures, but they'd been spending so much time on pixies lately that Sirius had expected everything to be there. He glanced around the room in confusion. Come to think of it, the pixie cage wasn't there either.

"Is something wrong, Sirius?" the ex-auror asked, noticing his student's confused expression.

The Slytherin looked up at him in surprise. "Where are the pixies? Aren't we finishing up with them?"

"Not today," the professor responded with a smile. "I thought we could use a break from them. Especially since a few of the students were getting bitten too much, and Madame Pomphrey had begun complaining that she needed time to rebrew some of her medicines." He laughed. "We're actually going to be outside today."

"Will we be using our equipment next class?" he asked. _This was just typical. He got to class early enough to fix things, and he didn't have anything to fix. Now he'd have to come early again next time._

"We'll finish up with pixies sometime next week." He chuckled a little. "Sorry to disappoint you. I didn't realize you enjoyed them so much."

Sirius ignored the teasing, glowering at his desk. The sharp pain in his chest was back, and he needed to use all of his self control not to let it show on his face.

It wasn't long before the rest of the class began filing into the room. Several of the students sent Sirius alarmed looks, unused to him actually arriving early enough to beat them. James' jaw dropped when he came in, and for a moment he looked like he was almost going to talk to Sirius before remembering his anger, and silently taking his seat. Of course, Lily didn't look surprised at all. She just sent him a questioning look, to which he responded by motioning in frustration to the empty counters.

Her expression of surprise mirrored his own.

Meadows waited for his entire class to be seated before making his announcement. After clearing his throat a few times to silence his class, he began speaking. "As I'm sure many of you have noticed, we are not working on pixies today. I have been requested by Madame Pomphrey to stop sending her students with pixie bites. Especially since a few of you seem to be allergic to them." He shot a knowing look at Jenny and a couple of Slytherin boys who were bandaged. Sirius could still see the slightly bluish tone to their skin where they'd reacted to the pixies.

"So," the professor continued, "I've decided to push ahead one of our lessons that I was going to save for second semester. You will not need your textbooks for this class period. It will be a practical lesson. We'll be in the courtyard, studying a fascinating and dangerous creature. Because of this, I need you all to understand the utmost importance of following my instructions while we are out there. You are _not_ under any circumstances to touch the box they are contained in, nor are you to try and handle them. Is that understood?"

His uncharacteristically serious expression lent a somber tone to the class. Several of the students nodded. Snape, of course, raised his hand and asked, "Wouldn't it help if we actually knew what the creature _was_ before you started giving us warnings about it?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, and contained his wish to send a silencing spell in the greasy Slytherin's direction.

Meadows didn't seem at all perturbed by Snape's rudeness. "If you'd have a little patience, Severus, I was getting there." His pale eyes skimmed the class. "How many of you have heard of _lethifolds_?"

Sirius momentarily stopped breathing. He glanced around the room and was met with several expressions of confusion. Slowly he raised his hand.

The professor nodded. "Only one. I'd thought as much. They're almost extinct, so we don't speak of them much anymore. But once they were considered to be one of the most deadly wizard killers, and every student from childhood had been taught basic ways of dealing with them." He motioned for his class to stand and follow him as he began walking toward the door. "I'll explain more when we're outside and you can see them for yourselves."

The class followed him quietly through the halls to the main door that led to the courtyard. It was as though the words "wizard killers" had frightened them into silence. Sirius, on the other hand, had other thoughts on his mind. Namely, the coincidence that Meadows had decided to teach them about lethifolds the same year that Sirius had told Dumbledore about Voldemort's dementors. Sirius had the strangest feeling that the two incidents were connected.

No one else was in the courtyard when they entered. However, in the center of it, sat a large crate that looked very familiar. The familiar words stamped onto its side suddenly made sense to Sirius.

_**Leth 10—XXXXX wiz kill** _

Lethifolds. Sirius shivered at the thought. These were the creatures that had eventually helped create dementors. Without even realizing what he was doing, Sirius had pulled his wand out, and was holding it defensively at his side. He wasn't sure exactly how lethifolds worked, but if they were anything like dementors, he wanted to be prepared.

Meadows stopped a fair distance from the crate. The students stood a little ways behind him.

Even from his vantage point near the back of the crowd, Sirius could sense the horror of these creatures. There was a cold stillness in the air. The crate was all shifting shadows, and there was a slow, sick wheezing sound coming from inside. At their approach it had only gotten louder, as though the creatures inside were relishing this feast that was voluntarily visiting. Several of the shadows shifted in their direction, and there was a light crackling of electricity.

A few students sent Meadows panicky looks and backed up further, but he only smiled comfortingly. "Not to worry. There are very strong wards on this crate. They can't get out. I just wanted you all to get a feel for them. You can't properly defend against anything if you don't understand what exactly it is that you're up against." He took a confident step closer to the crate. "As you can see, lethifolds are less matter than shadow. They are creatures of darkness, and they survive best in the dark. However, they have a voracious appetite, so if there is a large enough crowd, such as this one, they _will_ attempt to move through the shadows even during daytime. For a big enough feast, even light can't deter them."

As though to stress his point, there was another series of soft crackles from the crate.

"This is one of the reasons they are known as wizard killers. If they were loose, they would pick a target and attack as a pack. They latch onto the wizard, and consume them whole until there is nothing left." He let this sink in before he continued. "The other reason they are considered to be so dangerous is because they are very difficult to defend against. There are only two spells that have a chance against them. One is very powerful. You won't be expected to learn that. There is, however, a simpler spell that can deter them, and this is the one we will be covering today. Now..." He looked around at the class. "I want you to think carefully about this. What sort of spell do you think would work against such creatures?"

Sirius remained silent, his eyes glued on the crate. It was shaking now, and the electric sounds were getting worse. The lethifolds were getting bold. In fact, the last one had actually caused a large blue crackle of electricity. Sirius shuddered. He didn't like these things.

Jenny's hand slowly raised in the air. "If they're nocturnal, she suggested quietly, and they prefer darkness, would _lumos_ work?"

Meadows grinned widely. " _Exactly_! Good job, Jenny! Ten points to Gryffindor." He pulled his wand from his robes. "Now, all of you... take your wands out and close your eyes."

Several of the students exchanged nervous looks. _Close their eyes?_ Sirius sent a mistrustful look at Meadows. His wand was already out and ready. If one of those blasted things came anywhere near getting out of that crate, he was going to _Lumos_ it into next week.

The older man laughed easily. "Close them. I'm not going to open the crate on you, so you can relax. I just want you to get a strong feel for them. If you were ever attacked by one, they would come at you in the dead of the night. You wouldn't be able to see them, so you need to be able to sense them."

Snape snorted. "But professor," he started, "didn't you just say that they're nearly extinct? When are we going to come upon one of these in the real world?" Several other Slytherins were nodding and smirking.

Meadows' expression had turned serious. "Half breeds. Many times if you can deal with a creature, then you are one up on any half breeds out there as well. There are a few creatures that you all very well may wind up facing someday that are very similar to lethifolds, and just as deadly..."

Sirius' expression darkened, and he looked away. _So he'd been right. They_ were _learning this because of the dementors. Dumbledore was scared, and he's sent Meadows to teach them to protect themselves. Did that mean that Dumbledore thought Voldemort was going to try to attack Hogwarts, or was it just a precaution in case they met dementors in the future...?_

The students slowly closed their eyes. Sirius didn't really need to, but he did anyway. He could feel the malevolent coldness flowing from the crate. The evil and hatred spilling from these things. Very few creatures, magical or otherwise, were inherently evil. Apparently lethifolds were one of the very few species that were.

Their coldness was flowing over him, mixing with his pain and intensifying it. His scar was burning. Reflexively, he clutched his chest. _Were these things doing it to him then?_ He didn't get to dwell on it. The coldness suddenly washed over him like a wave, and he staggered backwards a couple of steps.

_Screams. Someone was screaming. A woman. He saw several flashes of green. Bodies falling all around him. The killing curse, followed by malicious laughter._

_But the woman was screaming for a different reason. There was howling. A werewolf was over her. It had already bitten her, and she was dying. But that wasn't what she was crying about._

_There was someone behind her. Someone she was trying to defend. There was a lot of blood._

_And more screams._

He staggered back, lost in the images. They were coming so rapidly that he wasn't able to completely comprehend what he was seeing. And through it all, his scar was burning like a brand.

" _Sirius!"_

He heard the voice through the screams in his head. Felt the steadying hands. But they meant nothing to him. He pushed away, lashing out. "Don't touch me!"

"Sirius, what's the matter with you?" The voice sounded frightened. Who was it?

Then there were more screams. It took Sirius a moment to realize that these were different. That these screams were coming from outside of his head. And his eyes snapped open.

His scar was still burning, and he clutched his chest as he looked around.

Students were scattering. At first he didn't understand why. He could hardly see anything through the mass of bodies and blinding pain. Could hardly hear anything through the screams. He _did_ dimly realize that it had been James who'd steadied him. _Did_ notice that James was still at his side even through this chaos.

Then he saw the crate, or what was left of it, and he understood. It had burst open. Splinters of wood lay all over the ground, crackling weakly from the destroyed ward.

The lethifolds were out.

Most of the students had already made it to the edge of the courtyard, near the building. Clearly they were hoping that somehow the lethifolds would go the other direction, towards the forest. Unfortunately, Meadows had been swept along in the sheer mass of students, and was unable to fight his way out from the frightened second years, most of whom were screaming and crying. Some of the girls were even clutching his robes.

The look on Meadows' face was one of sheer panic mixed with utter confusion. This should _not_ have been able to happen. " _Sirius! James! Get back!"_ he shouted.

It was then that Sirius noticed the shadows slinking in their direction.

" _Lumos!"_

A blast of light shot from Potter's wand. The lethifolds shied away. But the light didn't deter them for long, and before the boys could get away, they had regrouped.

" _Damn!"_ Sirius swore. "James, get out of here! Get over to Meadows!"

The Gryffindor stared at him, wand still out. "Are you _mad_ , Sirius? Do you think I'd abandon you? I'm not going to let you die!"

"Don't be an idiot," Sirius growled. Before James could reply, one of the lethifolds got too close. The boys jumped in separate directions, hoping to confuse them. They were shadow creatures... how smart could they be?

" _Lumos!"_ Sirius shouted. The lethifolds hesitated, and then continued their path now that they realized that this was the best the boys were going to come up with.

Meadows' words came to Sirius' mind. _"For a big enough feast, even light can't deter them_..."

 _What the hell was he supposed to do then?_ They were coming again, and this time Sirius realized that they were coming for James, not himself. James' wand had been knocked several feet away when he'd leaped out of their way. _"Shit!"_ That meant James was defenseless.

Sirius staggered to his feet, feeling the crushing pain in his chest, and doing his best to ignore it. _"What can I do? If light doesn't work..."_ Then an idea struck him. It was a long shot, but maybe... If the _Patronus_ spell worked on dementors, why not lethifolds?

Sirius leveled his wand and took a deep breath. He'd learned that spell a few years back, when the dementors had constantly been trying to feed off of his emotions. But he wasn't very good at it. The best he'd ever been able to conjure was a weak silver mist. Would that be enough to chase these monsters off?

Sirius swallowed hard. It didn't look like he was going to have much of a choice. If he didn't act soon, James was going to die.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ he shouted.

Nothing. Nothing at all.

" _Shit!" Good thoughts. Where the hell was he going to get good thoughts?_

_Joining Hogwarts? Getting away from his father? Standing up to the Gryffindors?_

_Standing up to his own house?_

They were getting closer. Sirius sprinted and threw himself between James and the advancing shadows. _The hell with it. They'd take him before he let them take James. This was one of the only people who'd ever believed in him. One of the only friends he had in the world. There was no way in_ hell _Sirius was going to lose him._

And suddenly he knew.

_The day James and Remus had first treated him as friends._

" _Expecto Patronum!"_

His voice was loud and clear. Something huge and silver shot from his wand directly at the lethifolds, sending them scattering in a panic. The creatures tried to escape, but he silvery shape kept them away from the people. Back... Back...

Until the creatures had retreated from the courtyard, slinking into the shadows of the forest.

Only then did the silver creature walk back to Sirius and bow its head before him for a moment before dissolving again.

Sirius sank into the grass, breathing hard.

"What was _that_?" James gasped.

" _Sirius!"_

" _James!"_

Both Meadows and Lily were running toward the boys. The rest of the panicked class had finally released the teacher and were tight up against the wall, unsure if the silver beast from Sirius' wand had been any more dangerous than the lethifolds that it had just chased away. Afraid to find out.

But Sirius was in no condition to respond. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, and his scar was hurting him so badly now that he could hardly breathe.

_A wolf..._

_His patronus had been a wolf..._

He doubled over, clutching his chest and gritting his teeth.

_No, not a wolf... not quite._

"Damn," he whispered weakly.

_His patronus had all the features of a werewolf._

_What does that say about me, then?_

It was his last thought before the pain from his scar became too much, and he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Well, I hope you like this. . Please review! Thank you!


	21. Cry Wolf

**Sirius Black and the Heir to Slytherin**

**Chapter 20: Cry Wolf**

_She was crying. For some reason, he could ignore the screams and focus just on her... her tears... her face..._

_Her blood..._

_She was huddled in the darkness, trying to protect something... someone... He wasn't sure exactly. He couldn't see what was hidden behind her._

_Her face appeared bloodless in the pale moonlight. Eerie in the occasional flashes of green around them._

_His eyes scanned the area, noticing more bodies._ Oh my god... _he thought._ What happened here?

" _Spare him..." the woman whimpered, drawing Sirius' attention again._

_When he turned back to her, he was surprised to see her eyes locked on his. Pleading. Her terror was unmistakable._

_As was the obvious fact that she was dying._

_He wanted to help her, but of course, that wasn't possible. He was frozen in place, forced to just watch her agony._

_Her large eyes remained focused on him._

" _Please... who are you? Why are you doing this?" More tears tracked through the dirt and blood on her face._

_There was a sudden motion behind her._

_Sirius' eyes were drawn in that direction, but she became agitated, again pleading, "He's been hurt enough. Please..."_

He? _Sirius didn't think on it long, as her pleas were cut short by a sudden blast of green._

_And it took Sirius only one horrifying moment to realize that the wand that had killed her was in his own hand..._

He jerked awake with a shout, one of his hands clawing at the burning brand over his heart. The other hand swung, lashing out against whoever it was trying to force him back down.

" _Let go of me_!" he roared. " _It wasn't me! Leave me the hell alone!_ "

"Sirius!" The voice sounded worried. "You're going to hurt yourself. Lie still." It was a man's voice. Firm. Commanding. Whoever it was, he was trying to sound comforting. But the last man who had tried to command Sirius was still fresh in the boy's mind.

Sirius' response was practiced and immediate. He fell as still as death, barely breathing. He could feel himself trembling, but he couldn't stop that.

"Sirius..."

Hurried footsteps approached them, and Madame Pomfrey's sharp voice cut through the air. "What's going on here?"

Sirius cringed.

The man responded. "I think he had a dream. He began thrashing. I had to hold him down to keep him from hurting himself."

"Well, I told you he wasn't in any shape to have visitors, didn't I? I'd think I have more experience with such things than you do. And I've been dealing with his case since last year." Her voice was short and snappish, as though he were questioning her authority by entering her domain.

The man didn't sound the least bit disturbed, his voice cool and collected, now that Sirius had stopped thrashing. "Case?" he asked, interest evident in his voice. "What exactly _is_ Sirius' situation? All I've been told is that he's allowed to miss classes for medical reasons, as long as he makes the work up."

 _Classes..._ Sirius began breathing again, his trembling finally dying down. _A teacher then. Of course... a professor. I'm at Hogwarts..._

"He has a heart condition. That's all. Muggle illness."

"I know what heart trouble is," came the reply, and Sirius finally managed to recognize the voice... Meadows.

 _What's_ he _doing here?_ Sirius wondered, as rational thoughts began making their way once more into his mind. The dream was finally fading, taking with it the horror and fear. He could still feel the cold sweat on his body. His slight tremble still noticeable, but more controlled now.

The adults continued their conversation about his medical condition, oblivious to Sirius' recovery as his eyes slowly opened.

He took a deep breath, testing for pain. Not much... _How long was I out for this time?_ he wondered. He took another deep breath, and wasn't so lucky this time, crying out as a sharp pain shot through his chest.

The adults fell silent, two faces turning in his direction. Meadows immediately met his eyes, as Pomfrey rushed to his side, and began fussing over him. Sirius completely ignored her. "What are _you_ doing here?" he asked, his voice raw and cracking. His eyes had never left the professor's face.

The older man didn't answer immediately, waiting for Pomfrey to conclude her checkup. After several minutes of fussing and poking and prodding, the woman finally announced that she was going to finish putting together a fresh dose of medicine to help ease Sirius' pain. With those words she left the room, completely oblivious to the dead silence that was left in her wake.

It was a moment before either spoke, professor and student eying each other, each struggling with very different thoughts and concerns.

"Why are you here?" Sirius finally asked again, as though they hadn't been interrupted.

Meadows' kind eyes grew sad, as though it hurt him to have to explain something so obvious. "I was worried about you, Sirius," he answered simply.

The boy just grunted in reply.

There was another awkward silence before either of them spoke again.

"Professor," Sirius muttered, trying to lever himself up out of bed. His arms were still a little shaky, but he ignored Meadows' attempt to stop him and stubbornly pulled himself into a sitting position. He coughed a little, noting how hoarse his throat was. It was then that he realized he was back in the quarantine room.

Which meant he'd been screaming. More than just this once.

"What happened?" he asked, turning his dark eyes back to the professor.

Meadows smiled gently at him. "What do you remember?"

He hesitated a moment before answering. "Shadows..." Sirius' voice was barely a whisper. "Shadows were coming for me, and light wouldn't take care of them..." He shook his head, trying to clear it. "That didn't really make any sense..."

"They were lethifolds," Meadows replied softly, "and you are making perfect sense."

"Lethifolds..." Sirius repeated. He remembered them.

The old man's expression grew thoughtful. "Yes. It seems that something happened to the crate containing them that weakened the wards. It should never have happened. I know it doesn't help, but I apologize. That could have been a disaster..." He paused, his eyes focusing back on the pale, dark-haired boy before him. "That was quick thinking when you warded off the lethifolds the way you did. But something about it bothers me... You used a patronus..."

Sirius squirmed uncomfortably. This was it. His patronus had been a werewolf. Meadows had to realize what that meant... even if Sirius himself weren't entirely sure... He cringed waiting for the accusations.

"Where did you learn a skill like that?"

Sirius blinked at him. "What?"

Meadows shook his head. "I've never heard of such a thing, especially at your age." He smiled at Sirius. "Have you been holding back, or is your specialty just extremely difficult spells?"

Sirius stared blankly at the older man. He couldn't be serious. Was the professor baiting him? The boy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "It was a werewolf," was his only response.

"So I noticed. Unusual, but not unheard of. Generally patronii take on the form of a familiar animal, one that reflects the wizard."

Sirius cringed, but Meadows didn't seem to notice, and continued.

"Half-breeds sometimes show up at the oddest times, though. My own mentor, when I joined the Auror Division, had a patronus that was a centaur! Imagine that!"

But Sirius' mind had stopped early in the old man's rambling. "Half-breeds?" he asked softly.

Meadows smiled warmly at Sirius. "Of course. Creatures that aren't fully human. Werewolves, merfolk, and the like. We'll study those sorts more during your third year. Normally-" He cut himself off suddenly, a peculiar look on his face.

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but Meadows held up a hand to silence him, his attention now focused on the locked door to the quarantine room.

At first Sirius didn't understand, but then he heard it too. Whispered voices coming from just beyond the door.

"Move _over_! You're stepping on me!"

"Well, get out of my way then."

"And where am I supposed to _go_?"

"Now, now... No arguing, children."

"Shut up, Remus."

There was a pause as the doorknob rattled uselessly.

Meadows had relaxed now that the threat had passed. He stood up and walked over to the door, merely amused now.

The knob rattled again.

"It's locked."

It was James' voice. Definitely. Sirius finally managed to relax as well.

"Then unlock it," Remus hissed.

"With what key?"

There was a disgusted snort before Lily's voice chimed in, clearly stating, "Move over!" followed by a slight scuffle and her clear voice. " _Alohamora_!"

The lock flew open.

"Well," came a muffled comment, "there _is_ that.'

"Shut _up_ , Remus," James snapped, moodily.

Another disdainful snort. "Boys..."

The door finally creaked open a crack.

Shaking his head, the professor pulled it open the rest of the way so suddenly that Lily, who'd been holding the knob stumbled forward, dragging James' invisibility cloak along with her, leaving the boys completely exposed in the doorway, while making her own body appear to be a mass of floating limbs missing a torso where the cloak had wrapped when she's fallen.

She was all Sirius could see of them, as Meadows' large frame was blocking most of the view.

"Girls..." James muttered.

But Lily was too busy stammering at Meadows to acknowledge James. "P-professor... We were just... just..."

The older man smiled kindly. "Just sneaking past Madame Pomfrey to visit your friend I suppose."

"Is he alright?" It was James this time, sounding surprisingly more mature and concerned than Sirius could remember having ever heard him. "He's been out for a week, Professor. How long did anyone expect us to wait?"

"Madame Pomfrey isn't going to like this, you know."

That was enough for James, and for once he dropped the accommodating attitude that he reserved for professors to reply. "Professor, Sirius was protecting _me_ when the lethifolds attacked. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have strained himself calling that... that _wolf_ thing from his wand!"

"Wolf?" Remus asked sharply. "You never mentioned _that_ before."

But James ignored him. "Please, professor... just let us see him. I'm not leaving here until I'm sure he's okay.

Sirius' jaw dropped in surprise. _He had to still be dreaming._

"Well," Meadows replied, "I suppose if that is the case, then I shall have to distract Madame Pomfrey for you. I'd suggest being quick." And with those words, Meadows stepped aside, finally giving them a clear view of the room's single occupant.

" _Sirius!_ " Lily exclaimed, unwrapping herself from the cloak as she scrambled to her feet and rushed to his side.

James and Remus were close behind, adding their own exclamations to Lily's.

Meadows quietly slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Sirius was immediately pounced. He stiffened in surprise, unsure of how to react. Lily was hugging him tightly while James just stood there, staring at Sirius with that unnervingly earnest expression still on his face, demanding what had _happened_ to him back with the lethifolds.

Remus, meanwhile, seemed distracted, first quietly asking Sirius how he was feeling, and then seeming to grow distant for some reason.

Sirius didn't miss this, and although he still wasn't anywhere near recovered, wound up leaning forward, dragging Lily with him, and focusing his waning energy on his quieter friend. "Remus?" he asked tentatively. "Is something the matter?"

The pale Ravenclaw turned his amber eyes back to the group, surprised to see that the attention had shifted focus. Even Lily, was looking in his direction, although she hadn't loosened her grip any. Remus glanced away. "I... no... I'm fine..." he murmured unconvincingly. Then, without warning, he blurted out, "What's this about a wolf? What _happened_? A _wolf_ came after you?"

Sirius just blinked at him, startled. "Not exactly. Didn't James tell you?" He looked over at the dark haired boy standing at his side. "James...?"

The Gryffindor shrugged. "I told him most of it, but I forgot some details. He was out sick for most of that week, Sirius. Remember? Cripes. By the time he came, back, all I remembered to tell him was that you were in the hospital because of a lethifold attack and that you saved my life. What else mattered?" He honestly seemed confused about all the fuss.

"It... it doesn't matter, really," Remus said quickly, looking away. "I just wondered. Wolves aren't common around Hogwarts. The creatures in the Forbidden Forest tend to scare the common creatures off."

"Really?" James asked, his limited focus shifting to this new tidbit of information.

Lily just rolled her eyes, as though _everyone_ should know that.

Sirius honestly just wanted her to stop hugging him. He was starting to lose air. After a bit of uncomfortable squirming to loosen her grip a bit and bring circulation back to his arms, he commented, to put Remus' mind at ease, "There were no wolves."

"Oh," his friend replied, smiling a little. "So James was exaggerating again?"

" _Hey!_ "

Sirius managed a small smile in response. "Not really. I think he was talking about my patronus. It was..." His expression darkened again, as flashes of his dream came back to him. "It was a werewolf," he said softly.

Remus seemed to choke. "W...what?" he asked softly. "Are you sure? We haven't even _studied_ werewolves yet. How could you know?"

James looked around in confusion. "What's a 'patronus?'"

He was tactfully ignored.

Again, Sirius found he couldn't make eye contact with his friends, worrying what they would think, but equally afraid to keep trying to hide things from them. _This tidbit of information couldn't hurt too much, could it?_ "I've seen werewolves before. I know what they look like. I can tell the signs." He shot Remus a pointed look, hoping his friend would understand that he didn't want to talk about it anymore. He certainly didn't expect the response that he received.

"You... you've _seen..."_ Remus swallowed, looking about ready to faint. "You've actually seen a werewolf before? I mean... up close?"

Sirius nodded, adding defensively, "Don't look at me like that. I've never been bit, if that's what you're thinking. _I'm_ not a werewolf. I just _saw_ them. That's all." He glanced away, adding, "Vicious things. Vicious... half-breeds..."

Remus flushed red, and fell silent.

James, as usual was oblivous. "You've really seen a werewolf? _Wicked!"_

Lily just whacked his arm and shot him a glare to shut him up.

"Ouch! What?" he asked, angrily.

She opened her mouth to reply, when a sharp voice from just beyond the door, snapped, "What's the meaning of this? Who else is in there?"

James' eyes widened and he dove for the cloak, which Lily had left on the floor, quickly pulling Remus and Lily close and wrapping it around them. "We'll be back to see you, mate," he whispered just as the door whipped open, and Madame Pomfrey stormed in, a large bottle of potion in her hands, looking reading to kill.

"When I say no visitors, I mean no vis—" She broke off as she glanced around the room, seeing nothing but Sirius propped uncomfortably on his pillows, struggling to appear bored and confused.

"Do I have to take that potion again?" he griped. "It's bad enough that I'm back in the quarantine room."

She glared at him, though still appearing unnerved by the lack of bodies to go with the voices she'd have sworn she'd heard. "Don't give me that, Black. You'll stay in here until I think you're well enough to leave this room."

Her skirts suddenly shifted as though blown by a breeze, or brushed by a nearby body, and moments later the door behind her creaked shut, causing her to jump and almost drop the potion. "What on earth...?" She spun around. " _Peeves!_ " she growled, glaring about the room. She shot a dark look at Sirius. "You stay here," she ordered, before storming out of the room in search of the poltergeist, and leaving Sirius on his own to concentrate on thoughts of his friends...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Thanks so much for your patience. I'm sorry I'm so slow updating in this universe of late. But I really can only update when I'm motivated and/ or inspired.  
> Thank you DC for pointing out grammatical errors, and poking me along. And thanks FrostPhoenix Mystievyn for motivation!
> 
> Thanks you all for reading. Please review!
> 
> Sirius


	22. The Event Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine... obviously. I mean, if I were J.K. Rowling, why would I write alternate universe fictions of my own universe?

**Chapter 21: The Event Horizon**

By the time Sirius was well enough to get out of bed, everyone had already left for Christmas holidays. His friends (still such a foreign concept) had wished him a Happy Christmas before they'd gone, and had left him presents: A book about potions from Remus; an enchanted quill from James, to help with "difficult" assignments (Remus had groused about that one); a muggle camera from Lily, which, to her dismay, would not work on Hogwarts' grounds; and some sort of fruitcake from Hagrid that felt like a brick. Sirius had stuck that one in with Snape's gifts when the other Slytherin wasn't looking.

Mostly Sirius spent his free time practicing quidditch or wandering around the castle poking at things with his wand. Some of the statues weren't well warded, and fun modifications were possible. One quite boring statue of a witch now sported quite the hunchback, for instance.

Other times, he tormented the portraits. A few now avoided the Slytherin hall whenever possible, forcing the boy to be more creative, and hunt around the other House wings as well. He left the Fat Lady alone, though. He was still a little afraid that she'd bar him from the Gryffindor common room if he caused her too much trouble.

Every evening, he dined in the Great Hall with Dumbledore, a few other professors, and the six or seven other students who had remained at the school over the holiday. It was a comfortable pattern.

Within a few days, Sirius was bored out of his mind.

Even visiting Hagrid lost its thrill when he realized that the groundskeeper's new pets were a horde of oversized, salad-eating slugs. Hardly enough entertainment for a twelve-year-old wizard.

It wasn't until his last few days along, poking at yet another statue near one of the girls' bathrooms, that he found the book with the blank pages. Nothing memorable. Just a boring-looking little journal. He didn't pay it much mind, and it wound up crammed into his school bag with a dozen other useless things. He could always use it as spare parchment.

* * *

"Sirius!" Lily threw her arms around him, before he even knew she was behind him. "You're better!"

There had been almost no one to share breakfast with in the Great Hall for the past week, so Sirius had not expected any sort of a greeting at all, let along a stranglehold. He practically choked on his breakfast. After a great deal of hugging on her part, and coughing and sputtering on his, Sirius managed to disengage himself from her cheerful hug.

"I _was_ better until you cut off my oxygen," he growled. But there was a small smile tugging at his lips that didn't escape her notice.

"Oh, shut it," she said with a laugh. "You missed me and you know it."

"Yeah. I think it was your ladylike behavior I missed the most. Does that come from your muggle background, or do they have special classes for that here?"

Lily ignored him. "Are James and Remus back yet?" she asked, glancing around the nearly empty Great Hall. It was still decorated with Christmas holly and several fir trees. Candles floated about the tables as snow gently drifted down, only to fade before reaching the floor below. It was rather pretty, and Lily paused to admire it.

Sirius, however had grown sick of it several days ago, and was more interested in regaining his over-exuberant friend's attention. He shrugged, pushing aside his half-eaten food. "I haven't seen them. They weren't on the train?"

She shook her head, tucking a few strands of her red hair that had escaped her ponytail back behind her ear. "I don't think so. At least, I didn't see James. And I haven't spotted Remus since we got off. Then again, Jenny and I were in the first carriage to the school, so I guess they could have been behind us." Her expression turned serious, as she plopped down in an empty chair beside him. "But enough of that. How are _you_? Were in in the hospital ward long?"

"I'm fine," he answered shortly.

She was going to say more when the sound of approaching footsteps from behind drew her attention, and she turned.

"Nice of you to snub us on the train," James said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"I did _not_!" Lily snapped. "I didn't even _see_ you!"

"I was saying your name."

"So were ten other people."

"You talked to Remus."

"He was right in _front_ of me!"

At the mention of the Ravenclaw's name, Sirius tuned the ever increasing argument out to focus his attention on the silent form who stood just beside James. Sirius quietly studied him for a moment.

Remus was too thin and looked exhausted. To top it off, there were a few nasty looking cuts on his neck. Remus smiled faintly when he noticed his friend watching him. "How are you doing? Better?"

Sirius nodded. "Yeah. Got out from under Pomfrey's thumb a few days after you left. But what happened to _you_? You look like a vampire turned you."

Remus winced, breaking eye contact. "Flu," he replied simply. "Dad thinks I picked it up from a muggle. No one knew how to treat it until they took me to a muggle doctor. Now I have to take medicine." He made a face.

Sirius didn't buy it. Granted, he knew absolutely _nothing_ about muggle illnesses, so the story was entirely plausible, except that it sounded too mechanical. Like Remus had rehearsed it a few times.

The Slytherin narrowed his eyes. "Do they treat the flu by cutting your neck open, then? I'd assumed even _muggles_ had stopped with the bloodletting by now."

Remus stiffened, staring intently at the floating candles above them as though he expected them to do a trick. "Cat," he choked out. "It scratched me when I picked it up."

Sirius snorted. "What kind of cat? A tiger?" He was being cruel, and he knew it. But he hated being lied to. And he hated not knowing _why_ Remus was lying. Or what he was lying _about_. And he hated caring about it, because that meant he cared what happened to Remus. He didn't want to get caught in _that_ trap again. It would end badly. "You're having an awful lot of bad luck this holiday." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his friend.

"Sirius..." Remus looked back at him.

Sirius' mouth was open to keep at it, but then he saw the desperate look in his friend's eyes, and he clamped it shut, unable to continue. He looked away, studying his half-finished breakfast as it congealed on his plate. Finally he muttered softly, "I hate cats." Then, after a moment of awkward silences, broken only by James and Lily's incessant bickering, he glanced up and asked, "You going to be okay?"

Remus nodded, obviously relieved. "Yeah. My dad fixed me up as best he could. I'm supposed to check in with Pomfrey later. I just wanted to be sure you were okay first."

Of course, after hearing that, Sirius felt even worse. "You shouldn't worry about me," he said stiffly. "I can take care of myself."

"Oh, shut up," laughed Lily, startling Sirius. He hadn't even noticed that she and James had finally quieted down. "Of course we're going to worry. We're your friends. You can't get rid of us just by being a grump!" Her eyes grew serious. "And you can't _always_ take care of yourself. Not alone. You can't always be your own hero."

His eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm not a hero."

Lily said nothing, but her eyes were defiant, daring him to continue.

Sirius sighed, and motioned to the table. "Why don't you guys sit down and actually eat something?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Remus squirmed, obviously still uncomfortable after Sirius' interrogation. "I couldn't sleep on the train, so I think I'm just going to check in with Mme. Pomfrey and then get some rest." He smiled weakly, finally allowing his gold eyes to meet Sirius'. Then, without another word, he hurried out of the room.

Sirius and Lily exchanged worried glances. James, as usual, was completely oblivious. He tugged on Sirius' ponytail and grinned. "You know, this thing is getting longer than Lily's. Think maybe it's about time for a haircut?" A wicked gleam shone in the Gryffindor's eyes. "I could do it for you..."

"No, thank you. I'd rather not be bald."

James yanked again, eliciting a growl and a glare from his friend.

Lily smacked him. "Leave him alone, you jerk!" she snapped, green eyes flashing. "I think it looks nice. Much better than _your_ mop." Before James could even think of a retort, she flashed them a winning smile and said brightly, and jumped up to her feet. "Well, anyway, I'm off. I have to unpack. I despise waiting and having a thousand things to do before bed, don't you? See you both at supper!" One quick, friendly wave and she, too, was gone.

The boys just stared after her.

Finally James spoke. " _You're_ her friend. Does she _always_ do that?"

"Pretty much."

James shook his head in amazement. "Strange. They're like a completely different species."

Sirius managed a weak smile. It faded quickly. "James," he said softly. "Did Remus tell you what's wrong with him."

The Gryffindor sent him a blank look. He glanced between Sirius and the door their friends had just left through. "What do you mean?"

Green eyes locked with blue for a moment before Sirius sighed in exasperation and looked away. "Honestly, James. Are you _completely_ blind?" He made an all-encompassing motion with his hand over his face and body, jerky and rough in his irritation. "The scratches and back-from-the-dead appearance? Or did that strike you as _normal_?"

James relaxed, smirking. "Oh, that. He said it's the flu. I thought he just told you the same thing." He sat down next to the Slytherin, straddling the chair and leaning his chin against its back. Something he would never do if any professors had been present, Sirius couldn't help noting. Not the perfect little angel. He rolled his eyes.

" _What?"_

"You _believed_ him? You really _believed_ that. The _flu_? I mean…" He groped around for the right words. "He's _always_ sick! _Always!_ No one is _always_ sick unless something is _wrong!_ That idiot, _Pettigrew_ can see it, and half the time I don't think he notices _anything_ unless it makes people focus on _him_. How can _you_ , his _friend,_ be this dense?"

James just blinked at him, looking for once like he was really thinking it through. He paused a moment, considering. Then, a puzzled look on his face, he asked, "Wait a minute, Sirius… who's Pettigrew?"

"Forget it," Sirius snapped, standing up, beyond annoyed. He didn't know why he had expected anything different. This was how it always was when he talked to James about Remus. Either the Gryffindor blew up on him, or else he feigned idiocy. Because Sirius knew that's exactly what it was. James was brilliant when he bothered noticing things. His problem was that if he didn't like something, he pretended it wasn't there. Remus wasn't sick. Pettigrew apparently didn't exist. Sirius wasn't Slytherin. James just wanted everything to always be _good_ , so if it wasn't, he pretended until it was… at least to him…

"Sirius… Come on… I don't want to fight again…" James sounded awkward. He wasn't used to asking favors, and that's really what this was coming down to.

Sirius took a deep breath, and then sighed. He didn't want to start a fight up again, either. But he couldn't talk with James right now. He was quiet for a moment, then said in a calmer voice. "Look, I'm fine. I just had a rough vacation, so I'm on edge, okay? Give me a little while to cool off. No worries." He glanced back at his friend. "Okay?"

James nodded, looking a little worried. "Sure. I'll see you at lunch, then."

Sirius managed a faint smile. "Right. Lunch." He turned and left the room.

* * *

He was bored again, sitting in the library, doodling badly on some spare parchment in his bag. His housemates had been slowly trickling into the Slytherin common room all morning until he couldn't deal with it anymore and had to leave. Snape alone was bad enough. Lucius and his little snake were beyond his endurance. So, here he was in his old haunt, drawing pictures of the vampire cat that had apparently attacked Remus while he had the flu.

"Why the hell were you playing with a cat if you were that sick… that's what _I'd_ like to know," he muttered, making the cat's fangs as long as its ears. The thing looked ridiculous. It didn't even look like a cat. He crumpled up the parchment and flicked it across the table, reaching into the paper to grab a fresh page of parchment. Instead, his fingers found the journal. He'd forgotten it was in there, buried under the mess of broken quills and crumpled papers in his bag. Carefully, he pulled it out and took a look at it. The cover was old and leathery, the pages yellowed. A quick flip through the book, showed that they were all blank. He sighed. It was probably just a poorly thought out gift to some kid who didn't want it years ago. _Boring…_

He considered making it a sketch book for his atrocious artwork. At least then James could stop crabbing at his sketches completely taking over his notes in astronomy class. And no one could yell at him for doodling on Remus anymore… not that he'd done that in ages. Smirking, he picked up his pen and touched it to the paper.

"Sirius! There you are! I've been looking _everywhere_ for you!"

Sirius jumped at the sound of Lily's voice, snapping the journal shut and tossing it into his bag. Quickly, he turned to see her hurry over. He managed a quick smile, but that faded as soon as he saw the look of concern in her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Prof. Meadows…" She stopped and took a shaky breath.

Sirius noticed for the first time how flushed her face was. That she looked… frightened.

He was on his feet before she could say any more. "What happened?" _Bloody auror…_ Sirius already knew what she was going to say. He must have heard Sirius talk in his sleep. Figured out what was going on, and spread it. The Ministry would be on their way for sure… or worse…

He shuddered, trying not to think too hard on that "worse"… failing as fragments of recently surfaced memories came back to him.

"Sirius?" Lily's concern had momentarily shifted to the Slytherin, and he realized how he must look.

Shaking his head, he asked in as level a voice as he could manage, "What has Meadow's done?" His voice was hard, older.

Her emerald eyes widened. "Done?" She blinked. "He hasn't _done_ anything yet, though he's been talking about it. Did you already know?"

He didn't answer, shoving everything into his bag. "I need to talk to Dumbledore. I need to tell him…"

"Tell him what? He already knows. He told the professor…"

That stopped him. "He told…?"

Lily nodded, her eyes looking a little red. _Had she been crying?_ "Dumbledore was the one who told the professor. I just overheard. I feel terrible for him…

"You… what?"

She paused. "Oh," she said softly, sadly. "You don't know, then."

" _Know what?"_ He was fighting the intense desire to shake the information out of her.

"The professor's daughter was killed over the holiday."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Thanks for reading this. I appreciate it... a lot. Especially those of you who might have actually been reading this since it started on fanfiction.net. I REALLY appreciate that you stuck around. Either way, please review. And please accept my apologies for the ... er... delays in my updates...
> 
> Sirius


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